The Eye of the Beholder
by scimitarblue
Summary: Data is assigned as First Officer to the USS Rorschach, a Nebula-Class ship tracking a dangerous anomaly on a direct course for Earth. Unknown to him, an old enemy is waiting in the wings, plotting revenge...but for whom?
1. I: Beginnings

_Beginnings_

Lieutenant Commander Data set down the small pack into which he'd loaded his remaining possessions, following the destruction of the _Enteprise-D_ in the Viridian star system. Spot's catcage was sitting on the far side of the room, its feline captive mewling miserably, and attempting to claw its way out from behind the shiny, metal bars. Data had determined that Spot would be released to wreak havoc on his new environment - a trend which had followed consistently when Data had changed the arrangement of his quarters the odd time on the _Enterprise_ - when, and only when, Data had finished unpacking everything else.

The quarters were approximately 37% smaller on Earth Station McKinley than the accomodations he previously become accustomed to. The station was only a temporary residence, established for him in the loss of the ship that had been his home, and that of hundreds of others, for the last seven years. This was not of especially great consequence - Data had few possessions, and had need for few. These living quarters provided a desk and a computer terminal, at which he could conduct research and access the station's computer, and included a bed. His needs called for little else - he did not require the same quarters nor the same considerations as his other crewmen. His shipmates had been human, with a few exceptions including Worf and Counselor Troi.

They were in the midst, now, of waiting for new orders and re-assignments. Following the court-martial hearing of Captain Picard, in which Starfleet Command had ruled that he was not in fact guilty or at fault for the loss of the vessel, the crew had been ordered to this station to wait until their next assignment should arrive. There were whispers, of course, that Commander Riker had been offered his own ship, that Lieutenant Commander Worf was considering transferring to a station near Bajor, and that Lieutenant Barclay had already been transferred to Starfleet Command, in San Fransisco. Most of these lacked facts, or substance, but Data had learned of their existence from his odd conversation or meeting with his _Enterprise_ crewmates, over the last week.

Their hope was still that Picard would pull through, and find a vessel that they could serve on, together. The command staff of the _Enterprise_ had become something akin to a family, and Data, thanks to the recent addition of Lore's emotion chip to his programming, had advanced, as an individual, to the point where he could appreciate that sentiment. On a platonic, purely logical level it would be best to remain with Picard, Riker, and the others - they had advanced to the point where they all functioned well as a team. Each knew each other's strengths and weaknesses, proficiencies and deficiencies, and it had been proven time and time again during the _Enterprise_'s seven-year flight that they functioned in a more efficient manner as a group than they did as individuals, or as separate units.

Data acknowledged this, but also acknowledged that emotionally, he felt...attached, to the group of them. They were his shipmates, his friends, and, as Picard had often observed, the group of them were family. Data realized that the odds of serving with any of them on his next assignment were astronomically low...in fact, there was only a 10.4% chance, given recent disturbances near the Bajoran wormhole involving the Cardassians and the Jem'Hadar, that the ship that Data transferred to would be home to any of his previous shipmates at all, if the matter were left strictly to chance. He hoped that he would remain with his shipmates, but found himself also dreading the news that, most likely, would come that he would be transferred elsewhere, on his own.

The first thing that he removed from his bag, as he moved back towards the desk in his quiet little room, was a small wooden case, with glass over the front, which contained numerous medals he'd been awarded by Starfleet over the years, some of which were among their highest honors. Even before the installation of his emotion chip, these things had been close to him, and he had valued them dearly. He found himself wondering just how much the emotion chip really had to do with the sensations and the feelings he experienced now, or if perhaps it was just the catalyst that built up reserves of feeling and emotion that had built up from the day he had come online. It was a distinct possibility, one he had considered before.

The next item he freed was a little leather-bound book, one that had been difficult for Picard to replicate for him in the first place. Books, after all, were something considered to be bygone and obsolete - there was little that one could find in a book that couldn't be accessed more conviently from a ship's computer, or library, or specifically on a PADD. The Captain had insisted that written word was more personal, and that it had a human quality to it that a PADD simply could not approach. The matter had always fascinated Data, and the book itself was an exceptional work, and so Data had always kept the reminder of his former Captain. Picard was a man with a wisdom and insight that was rare, not just among humans, but throughout the galaxy in general. The man truly did possess the soul of an explorer, and the heart of a poet...

...just as Tasha had said, had she not?

Data took a deep inhalation, allowing cool air to regulate his rising internal temperature as he reached into the bag for the final item. It seemed that, regardless of how he packed, this was always the last item in, and the last item out. Was it, perhaps, that he avoided it, because of the memory of her death? Or was it, perhaps, that he saved it for last so that it might be the most cherished? Data reflected frequently on her, and on the events of her life and death. Her time aboard the _Enterprise_ had been brief, indeed. And they had, as he'd been forced to reveal at the hearing of 2364, been intimate.

More intimate than he had revealed.

She had been the first individual with whom he had experienced intimacy. She was his first partner. From his observations of humans, one's first love tended to be reflected on with more frequency and, generally, more fondness than later, lesser relationships. Often, however, that reflection was marred with tragedy, or with heartbreak. Even before possessing the capacity for emotion, Data had experienced and grown from both.

Data was detecting increases in his core temperature consistent with the several occasions, over the last seven years, that he had observed her hologram. Reflections on her tended to produce more rapid, sporatic firing of his positronic brain, and he found that when he recalled the days that they had spent together, their time on the bridge, on the _Enterprise_ at large, but especially their time together under the influence of the Psi 2000 virus...he found that it was difficult to turn the images away.

The reason for this malfunction was unknown. He did not have the capacity...or he hadn't, before the emotion chip...to feel the sort of attachment or fondness that humans felt. He did not have the capacity for love...perhaps that was why she had seemed so displeased, and so short with him following their intimacy. Had she felt as if he had taken advantage of her? Had she felt that it had been irrelevant to him, or that he had just been fulfilling an unused part of his programming for his own amusement? Nothing could have been farther from the truth...and yet, he would always question whether this was how she had observed the events of that night, from her point of view, which was based on the darker, cruel experiences of her life.

He had never used his sexuality program before, but had pushed it to its limits during their encounter, striving to make it the most pleasant experience possible for her. While he himself could not experience the physical thrill of it all, Lieutenant Yar had lived a life lacking in the love that she'd shared with her comrades, in life. She had previously indicated that intimacy was, on her world, something selfish, something forced, something strictly about sensation and domination. When Data had come to her, she had told him that she'd wanted gentleness, and that she'd wanted love. He had made it, in those brief minutes, his primary function to grant that to her. To allow her to experience that physical closeness, despite all her preconceptions and apprehensions.

He flicked a switch at the side of the hologram projector in his hands, and her image, eternally young, content, peaceful, and beautiful...yes, beautiful...was before him. Her short blond hair, her eyes, her smile, the way she stood, the way she looked...all of it caught captured his attention, commanded his full focus. He'd always found her to be aesthetically pleasing, but watching her figure again, he felt...he felt...

...he felt...

He felt too many emotions, to the point where his neural net felt as if it were on fire. He felt rejection, and shame, at having been pushed away. He felt anger, for having not been quick enough on Vagra II's surface, to save her. He felt disgust, and hatred for Armus. He felt despair at knowing that she was gone, and that no matter how much he wished that she might return...she would not. He had thought of her through the years, wondered how the _Enterprise_ would have fared in any number of situations had she lived and carried on as its security chief.

He felt longing, as he finally accessed and felt...really, really felt...the sensory data from that night, in her quarters, when they had been joined. The night that they had...the night that they had given themselves to each other, in that fateful embrace. He remembered the way she had kissed him, the way that her soft, warm skin had felt against his...he felt it as if experiencing it all over again, the first time. He felt horror, at the sort of things that she'd lived through, the events of her life that had shaped her. He felt grief, knowing that he could have done something to save her. He could have warned her, could have stepped forward in her place, could have fired his phaser just a little sooner, could have provided a distraction long enough for her to get past...

As he stood, watching the hologram, he realized he had nothing. She was gone. He would never know whether she had cared for him in return, or thought of him in return. He would never have the chance to love her, the way that she had deserved. He would never get to watch her grow old, as he would watch Captain Picard, or Commander Riker, or the others. He would never have the chance to say goodbye. All he had were questions, and what-ifs, and a limited number of observations. He wanted more. He wanted to have more memories, more experiences with her. He wanted to have known her better...he wanted to go back. He didn't want for her to have died.

Those possibilities were all he had, now. He was alone. He would remain eternally young...as would she, in death...but he would always be alone. And she would always be silent.

For the first time, since he'd arrived on McKinley after the planetfall of the _Enterprise-D_, his eyes welled up with sad, hot tears. He swallowed, sharply, and let his tears flow out, slowly and surely, wiping them away lest they drip down and damage the projector in his hand. He took a deep breath...

"Tasha..." he whispered, tearfully, "I am...sorry..."

As the hologram flickered restarting its loop, he heard the sound of a cough behind him, as if someone were clearing their throat. It took his audio sensors a few seconds to process the input, but the source of the voice was unmistakeable. Rapidly, Data flicked the hologram off, feeling slightly...violated...at having been interrupted, without warning. He set the projector down, and turned, confronting the man in the black uniform with blue shoulders, wearing a captain's rank. The man with dark hair, and hungry eyes. Data wiped his eyes a second time, clearing his vision and preventing the intruder from determining his feelings.

"Is it not customary to ask permission before entering one's quarters?" Data inquired, cocking his head slightly, "I believe I made clear to you on your previous intrusion that such an entry was unwelcome."

Captain Bruce Maddox, looking a little reddened and embarassed, smiled nervously, and waved his hands apologetically.

"Data," he sighed, "I am sorry. Yes...one should ask permission if they're going to enter another's quarters. But...technically, Data, I'm not even here."

Data paused, and raised an eyebrow.

"Inaccurate," Data remarked, "You are indeed present, without my permission. May I ask why?"

Maddox watched the inactive holoprojector on the desk, a guilty and sorry look on his face.

"I remember her," he explained, "From the hearing. Your ship's security chief."

"You have not answered my question," Data snapped back, moving towards the desk and putting the holoprojector into a drawer, away from Maddox's prying eyes. Maddox had a reputation for snooping. "However," Data continued, "On your subject, yes. Lieutenant Natasha Yar."

Maddox nodded, and sighed. "She was beautiful," he smiled, sympathetically, "You were a lucky man, Data."

Data shook his head. "Your observations are insufficient to completely grasp the magnitude of my luck, as it is, Captain," he explained, "If you assume from a single projection that I was lucky, then I wish you might have seen her in life, and that you might have known not only her physical parameters and appearance, but her background, her experiences, her behaviours, her mannerisms, and innumerous other factors. She was a remarkable individual. She was a proficient crewman. She was a good friend, and she was special to me."

"Yes," Maddox nodded again, "I remember. You...told me that you were intimate."

"We were," Data nodded, his face betraying his grief, "We were, Captain."

Maddox sighed, and crossed his arms. Data glanced over curiously, wiping his eyes again, and making a futile attempt at small talk.

"How is Lore?" Data inquired, "I recall that his parts were forwarded to the Daystrom Institute for storage and disassembly."

"He's inactive," Maddox explained, "But...we were able to recover a great deal of information from his body. It's allowed us to make significant advances in robotic engineering and, in some cases, medical technology. I'm hoping someday that we might be able to reactivate him...once we can repair his neural net, and ethical subroutines."

"I am pleased that your endeavours were successful," Data explained, "As mentioned at our last parting, while I found your methods to be somewhat unacceptable, your passion for your work is inspiring, and many of your theories are both sound, and fascinating - !"

Maddox waved a hand, cutting him off in mid-sentence.

"Data," he explained, "I'm not supposed to be here. But something has recently come to my attention." He started to pace around the quarters, his hands behind his back, and he had the appearance of someone nervous, someone uncertain. Data had known him in the past to be a driven, motivated individual, and saw such an appearance disturbing, at the very least.

"Captain Maddox," Data asked, "Are you well?"

"I am," Maddox nodded, "But...I was the project leader for the construction of a series of probes that were recently deployed by the _USS Rorschach_, a Nebula-Class science vessel currently docked here at McKinley." He cleared his throat, and continued. "She's a good ship...and she's in desperate need right now of a new first officer."

Data paused, considering his words carefully.

"The _Rorschach_," Data observed, "Is the research vessel assigned, by Starfleet Command, to Starfleet's robotics division, a scientific department of which you, Captain, are the head." Data paused, "Do you wish to, again, dismantle me? I suspect that, now, with the research conducted on Lore, that such a procedure would now be capable of preserving my consciousness, and while I find the prospect somewhat daunting, I would be glad to endure it for the sake of further advancing - "

"Data," Maddox interrupted, "This isn't about that. Another time, I might be glad to...but, no, I need your help."

Data raised an eyebrow, again, glancing confusedly at him.

"Please continue," he asked.

Maddox nodded, and pulled a PADD out of his uniform jumpsuit, showing Data a series of star charts and schematics.

"Robotic, unmanned probes that I developed were deployed last month along these four systems," he explained, pointing out several stars on the charts. "One of them returned interesting results. A world we previously observed to be pre-warp, but relatively well-developed, is now barren, rocky, and devoid of life. We could find no reasonable explanation for the change. We moved on."

Data raised an eyebrow, watching the charts move with fascination to their next set of stars.

"Fascinating," he remarked.

"That's not even the half of it," Maddox explained, "In testing another probe, a few days later, I deployed probes to these systems. Now, at first I thought my readings were off, but I saw this."

Maddow pointed out, on the right-hand side of the PADD, an image of a blue-green, lively looking world, clearly inhabitable.

"An M-Class planet," Data commented.

"An M-Class planet as it appeared in our databanks," Maddox explained, "But this is what our probes found instead."

A dead, red-brown world with a hazy atmosphere and black, slick blotches littering its surface came into view.

"Dead. Just like the last one," Maddox explained. Data paused, and glanced over the PADD a second time.

"Alarming," Data remarked.

"That's what I thought, too!" Maddox exclaimed, his renowned passion returning, "But...then I consulted Starfleet Command. Who promptly informed me that two points make a line, not a pattern."

"They are correct," Data observed, "However, the coincidental death of two worlds at the same time, with the same symptoms, does seem most unlikely."

"I ran every scan I could think of," Maddox sighed, "All I could find were random neutrino emissions. But I followed them. I nearly burned the _Rorschach_'s new sensor pod out doing it. Based on the location of the first planet, the second planet, and following the neutrino emissions that seemed to be generated near each of these worlds...I found the third planet. I deployed a probe, and discovered this."

He flicked a switch, and the image of a black, liquid sphere appeared. Data paused, glancing up at Maddox confusedly.

"Are you certain the probe did not malfunction?"

"Positive," he nodded. "And then, we approached the world to take further sensor readings, but before we had a chance to react, or raise our shields, a wave of energy shot up at us from the surface. The _Rorshach_ was severely damaged. Lieutenant Commander Ming-Xia Cho, my executive officer, was killed, along with most of the others. We're running on a skeleton crew."

Data glanced up, at the Captain, still as confused as he'd been a moment ago.

"Then you need more than simply a first officer," Data explained, "It sounds as if you will not be spaceworthy for some time."

"Actually," Maddox smiled, "I'm planning on disembarking by morning. I need your answer by then."

Data paused, and arched an eyebrow.

"I do not understand why this is of such urgency."

Maddox flicked the PADD open again, and the three worlds appeared, with a line charted between them.

"Starfleet Command bureaucrats are debating how to act on this new data," he explained, "But...I drew a connection between these locations. I've managed to predict the time, and the location, of the next dying world. It's going to happen in less than a week, Data. Six days. And...the world, if my calculations are correct...it's going to be Earth."

Data's eyes widened, and he seized the PADD from the Captain's hands.

"With your permission, Captain," he spoke, "I would like to confirm your calculations for myself."

"Certainly," Maddox nodded, "And if you find them off, I shall be a very grateful, and relieved, man."

Data spent a minute flicking through the information on the PADD, and his positronic brain fired like lightning, piecing together each and every one of the figures, and introducing numerous ones of his own that Maddox likely hadn't accounted for. Frighteningly, the end result was the same.

"Six days, nine hours, fourteen minutes, and thirty-two seconds," Data whispered, stunned, "And that target...Earth."

"With the new Dominion conflict," Maddox explained, "Starfleet is too wrapped up in Bajor to pay attention to scientific research. They've told me that a ship will be dispatched to investigate in a week."

"But you have already completed the necessary observations," Data countered, "Seven days will be approximately fifteen hours too late."

"I know," Maddox nodded, "So...I'm taking the _Rorschach_ on another tour of deployments. I've told the fleet we'll be testing out the AI systems and guidance systems on new torpedoes in testing ranges in these systems here, and here, and here," he explained, motioning towards another spatial grid on the PADD, seizing it back from Data. "Typical of Starfleet Command, right now, but weapons research gets priority. So they approved the request. I've predicted that whatever did this to those planets will be traveling through these systems first. The _Rorschach_ will proceed, and stop whatever did this from destroying Earth. At all costs."

Data paused, considering all the implications.

"Why have you come to me?" he asked.

Maddox smiled.

"Because fate put you on this station when I needed you," Maddox grinned, "Data, you are a remarkable person, and a remarkable piece of machinery. I'm going to need every possible advantage against...well, whatever this is. I can't take any chances."

Data nodded in agreement, but was still not certain on how to proceed.

"Will the transfer be permanent?" Data asked, indulging a question to his more emotional side, the side that wanted to stay with the _Enterprise_ crew.

"Not unless you want to make it that way," Maddox sighed, "I just need your help long enough to get this thing taken care of. Data...I came to you because I respect you. I admire you. You've got more command experience and more combat experience than I'll have in ten lifetimes. You're the right man for this job."

Data paused, glancing at Maddox with further concern.

"And...may I discuss this mission with Captain Picard, or any of my old shipmates?"

"I'd rather not," Maddox sighed, "If Starfleet Command catches wind of this...well, it will cut our trip awfully short, if you know what I mean."

Data nodded in agreement.

"An unacceptable outcome," he explained, "However, I feel that Captain Picard or Commander Riker might have valuable insight and assistance to offer. I am certain that they would support your mission."

"Data," Maddox exclaimed, "I can't take that chance right now! You know them, I don't. I don't know that I can trust them right now."

"Do you trust me, Captain?" Data asked.

Maddox paused for a few moments, and then nodded quickly.

"Well, yes."

"Then you need only then extend your trust to my judgement. You said yourself that you need every advantage available," Data concluded.

Maddox waited a moment, and nodded.

"So...do you accept?" Maddox asked, anxiously.

"If you refer to your request for my serving as First Officer, then yes," Data explained, "I do."

Maddox extended his hand, smiling broadly. Data took it, and the two shook hands. Maddox had the expression on his face of like someone had taken ten years off of it. He was the same enthusiastic, albeit awkward, fellow who'd Data faced off against years ago in that hearing.

"Wonderful!" Maddox smiled, "I was hoping you'd agree! The _Rorschach_ leaves at 0800 tomorrow morning. I'll need you beamed over by then." Maddox's expression dissolved into that of a pupil admiring a work of art, which wasn't altogether surprising considering Maddox's dedication to the studies and disciplines established by Doctor Noonien Soong, Data's creator. At the same time, though, he seemed ecstatic that things were going his way, that his mission was going ahead.

"Data," he asked, "Why don't you join me this evening at the old Academy bar, in San Fransisco, to celebrate? Me and a couple of my officers are having a get-together...for old times' sake, in case we don't make it back. We'd be glad to have you along. I'd also be glad to...well, catch-up with you. It's been a long time since the hearing."

Data shook his head, negatively.

"I apologize," Data explained, "I have a transporter reserved in one hour for Paris, where I'm going to be meeting with another colleague. I would be glad to accept your invitation at a later date."

Maddox, looking a little disappointed, nodded and crossed his arms.

"Right," he sighed, "Well, I'll see you on the bridge tomorrow, then. Replicate yourself a command division uniform in the meantime."

Data nodded. With that, Captain Bruce Maddox stepped out the automatic doors, and into the corridor of the station.

"Thank you, again, Mister Data!" he called out, disappearing into the station, "See you in the morn - !"

The closing of the automatic doors finished his last thought for him.

Before Data could process any further thoughts, calculations, or computations, he was interrupted by a disgruntled mewl. Data reached down, and opened the catcage, at last unleashing Spot upon his new habitat. He paused, and before the cat could get away Data picked up the little creature, stroking its back affectionately. Spot purred with audible delight.

"You are a good cat," he smiled, "And a pretty cat. Tonight, you will dine on Feline Supplement 221. And then you will be spending the next six days, at the very least, in the company of Lieutenant Commander LaForge."

* * *

Jean-Luc sipped at the fresh, hot Earl Grey he'd been served in the little cafe, back home in Paris. Replicators, he had decided this night, didn't do the drink justice. This was an old place he'd gone before with academy friends, and he'd thought it appropriate for the meeting he'd called with Lieutenant Commander Data. He'd already broken the news to Riker, Troi, LaForge, and Crusher, and all of them had been utterly delighted. Worf's revelation had been a nasty surprise, but aside from the loss of his Tactical Officer, Picard was four-for-four on his little recruitment campaign for his new starship.

His new _Enterprise_. A sovereign-class starship, the most advanced vessel in the entire fleet. She was a sleek, stern, fast ship. While she wasn't quite the family craft that his last vessel had been, she was an admirable boat, and a very impressive young lady. From the designs he'd viewed of her, and the sneak preview Admiral Nakamura had granted him at Spacedock, Picard had to admit he was rather smitten with the new starship. He had been looking forward all day to giving Data the news. Perhaps, more than any of the others, Picard felt a certain kinship with the android.

In the last seven years, Data had become like a son to him, and especially after the loss of his brother and nephew in the fire earlier that year, Jean-Luc had found that one of the greatest reasons he hoped to reunite the crew was so that he might help Data, again, discover just a little bit more of the humanity the android strove for. All of them were dear friends to him, and he trusted them all with his life, but Picard would be disappointed if, after all this effort, he wouldn't be able to help Data complete his search, his quest for humanity. The android, from a purely paternal point of view, was Picard's real, only last chance to leave a legacy other than the stuff of textbooks, stories, and songs. The best chance he had to one day be succeeded. It was a selfish, sentimental wish, but it was how the man felt on the matter.

His excitement turned to disappointment, an evident disappointment on his face, when the android walked into the cafe wearing a freshly-pressed red, command-division uniform. Some bloody bureaucraft must have gotten to Data first, and assigned him to a new ship.

"Not you, too," Picard groaned, smiling in a friendly gesture, but still raising a palm to his face. "I've already had to release good Mister Worf to Deep Space Nine. Dare I ask which vessel I'm losing my Chief Operations Officer to?"

Data stepped over to the table, sat, and glanced at Picard with an expression of uncertainty on his face.

"I was requested to replace the First Officer of the _USS Rorschach_," Data explained.

Picard's face immediately tightened.

"You do realize, of course," he mused, taking another sip of tea, "That the _Rorschach_ is Bruce Maddox's vessel."

"I do, sir," Data responded, "The request came from him personally."

Picard rolled his eyes, and took a deep gulp of the tea, staring sternly across the table.

"Data," Picard started, "If you have a desire to serve Starfleet, to advance, or to improve yourself as a human being...I can appreciate that, and I admire that. However...we are talking about the man who tried to dismantle you. I don't know how confident I feel leaving you under his command."

Data paused, and then glanced back over at his former Captain, apologetically.

"He made his intentions plain," Data explained, "He needs assistance only in tracking anomalies through nearby sectors, and diverting them from a potentially hazardous course. I...hope that I have not upset you, sir."

Picard was about to scold the android further, when he thought better of it. He smiled, and took another sip of tea.

"So..." Picard smiled, setting up his next statement, "A Nebula-Class vessel? She'll have an impressive sensor range, cruise speed, and excellent maneuverability."

"It is likely that the only significant of those facilities aboard for our mission will be the sensors," Data explained, "However, I must agree. For a science vessel, her impulse engines and ability to maneuver are impressive, especially compared, for example, to Ambassador and Galaxy-Class starships."

"Oh, yes, indeed," Picard sighed, almost scoffing, "But, Mister Data," he mused, still setting himself up, "Her warp speed will be atrocious. Her phasers negligible. Her shields just barely above standard. Her torpedo launchers archaic. Your quarters will be minuscule, your main computer will likely be overloaded and in need of desperate maintenance, and, as a First Officer, you'll be drastically overextended on what's certain to be an undermanned, underappreciated vessel." Picard took a sip of his tea, making a mock frown. "I sympathize, of course."

"I am unlikely to be overextended, sir," Data explained, "I do not require the same manner of rest that organic beings do. And, as the Nebula-Class is a science vessel, there is little need for warp speeds, phasers, or above-average defensive measures. However, I appreciate your concern for my safety and well-being, sir."

"Oh, you'll be fine, Mister Data," Picard mused, "But...all I'm trying to say is that I would very much like to see you on a ship that is slightly more worthy of an officer with your track record and achievements. Something sleek...fast...a true tall ship, for our time. A vessel at the forefront of not only scientific exploration, but also exploration of new forms of life, new civilizations, serving the Federation in the same diplomatic, military, and intrepid capacity that the _Enterprise_ herself did." He paused, and lifted a PADD, scrolling through it, keeping its contents hidden from the android's sight. He put on a poker face, masking his excitement. "A ship with bio-mnemetic gel packs, providing a more advanced computer interface and course corrections...sensors and targeting systems that put a Nebula-Class ship to shame...and, for the explicit pleasure of letting us play with all the new toys, I think a quantum torpedo launcher might be a nice touch, don't you?"

Data paused, glancing up in confusion at the wily Frenchman. A waitress approached, glancing at the android, then at Picard. She was young, quite young, and had probably only seen a few Starfleet officers in these parts before. She glanced at them a bit nervously.

"C-can I get you something, Commander?" she asked Picard, a hero-worship grin on her face.

"Oh, no need for formalities," Picard smiled, taking a menu off her hands and glancing through it. "And...four pips indicates the rank of Captain, my dear, just so you're aware next time."

The girl seemed to straighten right up, trying to deport herself as best as possible.

"I'm sorry, Captain, sir," she stammered.

"Relax," Picard smiled, flipping to the second page. "Ah," he grinned, pointing towards an old Labarre recipe, "I'll have this one. One for my friend, as well. Oh, and let's have a fresh bottle of wine, as well, my dear. And...please avoid serving the synthetic stuff."

She nodded, smiling broadly, and took the menu from him. Within seconds, she'd scampered off back to the kitchen. Data was still sitting with a stunned expression on his face.

"Sir," Data explained, "I regret to inform you that gel pack technology is still in the experimental phases, quantum torpedo launchers are only being tested currently on select tactical vessels of the Defiant class, and no class currently active has a more advanced sensor system than the Nebula-Class with a refitted sensor pod. While what you describe would, indeed, be a 'tall ship' and an impressive technologic achievement, it is simply not possible."

Picard glanced in staged disappointment at the PADD.

"Is that so?" he asked.

"It is," Data responded concisely.

"Mister Data," Picard mused, smiling at him, "It brings me great pleasure, for the first time in the last eight damned years, to prove that the Soong-type android in any given argument isn't always right."

"Sir," Data explained, "Based on all current Federation vessels in active service, as well as recent periodic journals from Starfleet Research and Development, and the conclusions from scientists involved in the creation of these new technologies, it would not be possible for a vessel with the specifications that you have outlined to be possible with our current level of advancement, let alone - "

Picard turned the PADD, displaying the image of a new ship, complete with technical specifications. Data glanced at it, and motioned towards it.

"May I?" he asked.

"You may," Picard responded confidently, placing the PADD into his hand.

Data glanced over the information for a few seconds, and then glanced back at Picard.

"Oh," Data mumbled, glancing up apologetically.

Picard's response was a smug, victorious grin.

"My apologies, sir," he expressed, handing the PADD back, "I was not aware that such designs existed, nor that such technologies had been sufficiently tested."

"Oh, they very much exist," Picard explained, "And her construction is nearly complete. And she's going to need a new Ops officer."

Data watched, with surprise, still attempting to put the pieces of Picard's little puzzle together. As he did so, the waitress returned, with the bottle of wine and two glasses. She poured one for each of them, and then smiled impressionably at Picard as she set the bottle down on the table.

"Will that be alright, sir?" she asked, politely.

"It's marvelous," Picard responded, "Thank you kindly, my dear."

The waitress returned to the kitchen, a bit of a skip to her step.

"Sir," Data asked, seeming to understand Picard's message and beaming a grin, "Are you...inviting me aboard?"

"Well, I've already managed to strongarm everyone else into it," Picard smiled, "Even after Commander Riker was offered the _Thunderchild_. With the exception of Mister Worf, who I wish all all the best at Deep Space Nine...I'm hoping to collect the full _Enterprise_ set."

Data's expression turned into a broad, excited smile, like the child finding presents under a tree at Christmas.

"I would be glad - !" he started, and then his expression darkened significantly.

"What's wrong?" Picard asked, leaning over the table, a little concerned.

Data glanced back at him with a look on his face that could only be described as sad, or forlorn.

"Captain," Data spoke, "There is a possibility that the anomaly we pursue may be hostile. It is, currently, on a course for Earth. We are attempting to divert it...but I am uncertain as to whether we will be successful. I may not return from this mission alive."

Picard paused, putting the PADD away, and sucked back the last of his tea in one fell swoop. He looked back, watching Data for a few seconds, and then leaned over the table, resting his elbow on it.

"I see," he sighed, "I will make the rest of the crew aware, of course."

"Of course, sir," Data explained. "The anomaly has already rendered several M-Class planets uninhabitable. I am not yet certain how we will proceed, or what the end result will be."

"Have you alerted Starfleet Command?" Picard asked, "And have they not dispatched a more appropriate ship?"

"Command is preoccupied with the looming Dominion conflict," Data explained, "They do not believe there is yet sufficient indication of a threat."

Picard sighed, leaned back in his chair, and crossed his arms.

"But...Maddox believes otherwise?" Picard answered.

"He does," Data responded.

Picard chuckled, glancing over at him.

"Bruce Maddox has been wrong before," Picard stated, "The fact that you're still functional, alive, and in one piece is evidence of that."

"I have reviewed his calculations, and they seem sound," Data argued, "I...wished to tell you this, as I have rarely before been placed in a position of such importance aboard a ship. Before we embark...I wished only to seek your...approval, sir."

Picard sighed, but smiled. Data had come to him to ask permission...in much the same manner that a son would. Picard, despite himself, was proud of the android, and of the progress that he had made. He wasn't sure what to think, but was confident that the android would rise to whatever challenge Maddox had discovered.

"Of course you have my approval," Picard sighed, "So long as Maddox's intentions are truly honorable, and so long that you feel this is what you are being called to do. It's a shame the _Enterprise _won't be complete for another three weeks...we might have otherwise have been able to join you, and Captain Maddox."

Data's smile was indication that his emotion chip was still running at full swing, and he leaned forward, glancing over at Picard.

"_Enterprise?"_ Data asked, eagerly, "She's...a new _Enterprise_, sir?"

"NCC-1701-E," Picard responded, proudly. "And there's going to be a spot waiting for you at Ops when you return from the _Rorschach."_

Data paused, his expression grim.

"But sir," Data explained, "I may not return, in which case it would be beneficial for you to select a second choice, in the event that - "

"Oh, I'll most certainly not select a second," Picard snapped, with a laugh, "I have construction to oversee, the entire remaining crew to pick out, and Starfleet Command already nipping at my heels to take her out on a shakedown cruise. The last thing I need to do is sit down and train a new Ops officer. I simply haven't the time. And so, Mister Data, you _will_ return. That _is_ an order."

"But sir - !" Data started to protest.

"There will be no 'buts' on the matter, Lieutenant Commander!" Picard barked, merrily, "I will be expecting you on the _Enterprise_ in three weeks' time. I shall be quite disappointed if you do not arrive."

Data paused, and glanced back over with a smile.

"Then I shall return, sir," Data answered.

"You'd better," Picard responded, warningly, "Because it'll be a damned inconvenience, Mister Data, if you don't." Picard raised his glass, indicating to Data to do the same. Data complied. "Now," Picard explained, "This shall be our arrangement. We will drink this one glass each, and I will save the remainder of the bottle for you on your return. I expect to have another good drink in your company, Mister Data, and I expect you to have stories to tell. I expect this will be quite an experience for you."

"Then perhaps," Data pondered, "Our first toast of the evening should be to journeys."

"Or," Picard suggested, "Perhaps, rather, to their beginnings."

"Very well," Data nodded, "To new beginnings, sir?"

"To new beginnings," Picard responded.

The glasses clinked together, and the officers drank.


	2. II: Middles

_Middles_

Lieutenant Jonathan "Jace" Wright, wearing a standard black-and-yellow Engineering jumpsuit, sifted through the innards of the third Jeffries tube in Environmental Controls that he'd patched together so far today. The _Rorshach_, as usual, was doing everything within its power to spite him. He was right in the middle, right now, of restoring life support and somewhat normal heating to the lower decks, as the computer had seen it fit to cut both of them out as soon as he'd managed to bring the power relays in Engineering back online. She was a temperamental old girl, the _Rorshach_ was...but Wright wasn't the sort of fellow to give up a fight easily. Especially when his quarrel was with such a stupid, stupid machine.

He slammed his spengler-wrench against the innards of the conduit he was working on, and, as if on command, the little patchwork of new circuits, isolinear chips, and the new gel packs that Maddox had procured sprang to life. Wright flipped the lid for the panel down, grinning victoriously, and kicking out against the plating of the Jeffries tube itself. He glanced up, as if addressing some unknown deity...though, in all actuality, he was simply addressing the ship itself.

"You like that, don't you?" he sneered, "Rotten little masochist, you are, girl. Now, behave yourself, or I'll strip you down for holodeck parts. You hear me?"

As if in direct reaction to his words, the console that Wright had just repaired sparked, exploded, and knocked him down about ten feet back in the tube. He brushed soot and ash from his eyes, and glowered at the now-smoking panel, which the ship's automatic fire controls were putting out. With water. Lots of water. Before Wright knew it, he was drenched, and the console was still spitting sparks, as if in defiance of him.

"Damnit," he spat, inching his way back towards the conduit, "Don't you make me get my belt..."

Before his threats were allowed to persist, his commbadge trilled, and the light, normally cheery, and heavily accented voice of the _Rorschach_'s acting First Officer, and chief Tactical Officer, echoed through the inside of the Jeffries Tube.

"Bridge to Lieutenant Vri...Wr...Wright," she called out, sounding a little concerned, and struggling through her thick Russian accent to get his name right.

"I'm in the _middle_ of something!" Wright responded grumpily, tearing open the console, unleashing another stream of sparks that kicked up into his face, "Can this wait just a few more minutes?"

"The _Rorschach,_" the good Lieutenant explained,"Is scheduled to depart in less than vun hour. The keptin will be aboard in sewenteen minutes, vith our new First Officer, to tour the ship. Vould you like me to diwert another damage control team from security to assist you?"

Wright took a deep breath. The console he approached, for the fourth time that day, sparked its malicious, vindictive guts out in what could be perceived, given the right temperament - or the Wright temperament, as the case was - as laughter, at the Chief Engineer's efforts. Wright smacked it smartly with the wrench in his hands, and sneered at it.

"And there's a lot more where that came from, you impossible little harlot..."

"Impossible little vhat?!?" the Tactical Officer recoiled, the alarm in her voice evident.

"Not you!" Wright snapped, glaring down at his commbadge, and silently mouthing the words _I hate machines._ His assignment to the _Rorschach_ following his duties as a junior Engineer on the _Phoenix_ must have the means of been some ancient deity of vengeance, poetic justice, or comedy entertaining itself immensely. Whatever god was out there watching him was having a good belly laugh over this right now. Bastard. Wright sighed, and glanced back down at the communicator.

"Lieutenant," he continued, "We're fine down here. I just need a minute to finish overriding the lockout that crewman James triggered by mistake on Deck Four, on his job, switching out a couple control chips, and re-connecting one of the relays, and the stardrive section will be inhabitable again."

"The keptin vill be arriwing shortly," she sighed, "Do you think you'll have it fixed by then?"

"Just give me two minutes!" he snapped, slapping his combadge and cutting the signal.

He had no qualms with Tatiyana, nor with her dedication to ship, captain, and crew. She was possibly one of the most driven, ambitious, and occasionally annoying officers on the ship, but Wright had no problems with her whatsoever. What he couldn't stand were uncooperative plasma conduits that triggered life support shutdowns, computer lockouts, routine system maintenance, sparking consoles, and combadges that chirped and trilled every five minutes, to the point where he could hardly hear himself think.

He switched a few of the control chips in the console itself, smacking one of them into place with the spengler wrench. He lifted his tricorder, transmitting a signal and entering the manual override code.

"Override codes are incorrect," the ship's computer snapped, "Please ensure the Capslock on your tricorder's interface is disengaged."

Wright opened his mouth, about to scream out another string of obscenities, when he realized that the Capslock light was, indeed, on. He must have pressed it by mistake.

"Stupid thing," he snapped, entering the code a second time.

"Access granted," the computer responded.

Lastly, Wright levelled his phaser, fixing the severed relay that was the cause for the environmental controls knockout. When it fused into place, the console hummed one last time, and lit up brilliantly. Wright chuckled triumphantally, and slapped the panel back down over his work.

"That's what I like to hear," he snapped, "Now, behave."

He turned to leave and got about twenty feet when the panel dropped, spewing forth the guts from the whole panel, along with part of the relay from the ship's main power grid, effectively knocking out lights in the Jeffries tube, leaving Wright's path illuminated only by the displays of his tricorder. He growled, and glared back at the mess of wires and chips.

His commbadge trilled again.

"Bridge to Lieutenant Wright!" the Russian lieutenant called again, "Ve seem to have lost main power on Decks twelve through sewenteen. Are you sure you don't vant me to diwert another damage control team to assist?

Wright closed his eyes, sighing deeply.

"I hate machines," he snapped, "Oh, God, do I _ever_ hate machines..."


	3. III: Ends

_Ends_

Daniel Gallant had always heard the rumors that it was difficult to keep your eyes off of Orion women. There was something alluring about the green-skinned beauties, something attractive about them, something that made it impossible to keep your eyes in the right place. Or, at the very least, anywhere above neck level. He'd never been placed in a position where he'd put that little theory, that little rumor, to the rest.

Well, he was testing it, and living it now. And, God, was it ever difficult.

Lissa Cohl was a medical officer fresh out of Starfleet Academy. She'd been posted to the _Rorschach _at about the same time of one of her classmates, Merrith Karn, who was one of the _Rorschach_'s brightest science officers, and one of the minds behind the advances on the _Rorshach_'s sensor pod. She was Orion, and had joined Starfleet to become a biologist. She'd been cross-trained, though, as a field medic, and had ended up assigned to the _Rorschach_ as an assistant for the Chief Medical Officer.

To Gallant, her history, her accomplishments, her story all seemed like background music right now. The things he knew about her, from what he'd heard from the rest of the crew, were like white noise. All that was running through his mind right now was just how perfect the curves of her body were, how the way that she moved drew him right in, and how he'd give up his left arm just for a chance to wrap his right one around her, draw her in close, and -

He glanced away, shamefully, at the thought. She was a medic, he was her patient. It was wrong of him to think of a shipmate the way he was thinking of her right now.

"It's normal," she smiled, spotting the way that he was trying not to ogle, "It's all pheromones. You're just like every other human male in the galaxy."

Gallant nodded, and picked a spot on the wall, staring at it intently, trying not to let her beauty distract him. He was lying on a biobed, his uniform shirt off, exposing his chest, as well as his right arm, which was a patchwork of circuitry, lights, wires, and metallic plates. It was a reasonably primitive prosthetic device, by the standards that Soong had set down in the field years ago...but it was effective. His new left arm, which was also mechanical, had placed it on a table on the other side of the room, as Cohl studied it, and tested it to ensure that it was running normally.

"The _Hercules V_ models are all over ten years old," Cohl explained, "Are you sure you don't want to try something a little bit more...recent?"

Ensign Gallant shook his head, almost stubbornly. Gallant, the _Rorschach_'s new Flight Control Officer, had been using these same prosthetic models, or variations of them, since he was thirteen, and had gotten extremely used to the way they felt. A new device would take hours, maybe even days to adjust to, and it would never be quite the same as the ones he was so used to in the first place.

Gallant had been, at a young age, the victim of a shuttlecraft accident. His left arm had been severed beneath the shoulder, his right arm had been amputated just above the elbow, and his legs had been replaced from right around the knee down.

On all four of his limbs, all that was left of his once fully human self were _ends_ - broken, asymmetric ends. He was more machine than man, but was also one of the best pilots in the fleet as a result. He had reflexes and dexterity in his robotic parts beyond measure, which had time and time him again made him one of Maddox's most valued junior officers.

Cohl reattached his left arm, sighing as the port integrated into Gallant's left arm whirred, clicked, and locked with the new, steely limb. Gallant flexed his fingers, glancing over at the replacement parts, and smiled.

"It's perfect!" he grinned, giddily. "Thanks, Doc."

Cohl smiled, and walked over to her desk again, entering a few figures onto the PADD in front of her.

"Just keep it away from exploding consoles this time, Ensign," she sighed, "And don't forget to bring it to Mister Wright once a week for routine maintenance."

Gallant nodded, but still tried to avert his gaze from her. He didn't want to stare, or to make her uncomfortable.

"So...can I go?" he asked.

"Of course," Lissa responded, "Just try to keep it in one piece this time, okay?"

Gallant nodded, pulled his shirt back down over himself, and headed for the door. Before he reached it, the door whooshed open and a man with a bald head stood in front of him. The man was wearing the black and blue uniform of one in the science division, but for some reason...for some reason, looking at the man, Gallant felt as if he were looking at someone naked. There was something innately sexual, attractive, and appealing about the man's appearance, which immediately made Gallant feel even more uncomfortable than he already felt.

"Excuse me," he snapped, barrelling past the bald man into the hallway.

Ensign Merrith Karn was in fact a Deltan, and the _Rorschach_'s Chief Science Officer. He entered the room, chuckling as the ensign in red dashed past him. Deltan physiology, after all, did tend to have certain...amusing effects, on members of sexually immature species. He glanced over at Lissa Cohl, his old Academy friend, and smiled.

"Ah, pheromones," he mused, sighing in mild annoyance at the same time, "Wonderful, aren't they?"


	4. IV: Insides

_Insides_

The innards of the Venture-Class scoutship were hazy with smoke, thick with the smell of burning bulkheads and melting chunks of isolinear chips and panels. The bearded, old lieutenant at the helm struggled with the controls, attempting to regain control of the craft. The red alert wailed, and the lights flashed. His counterpart, a young, female ensign of no more than twenty-two years, struggled with the controls for the emergency transporters and the sensors. A faulty intake valve had burst, knocking the ship out of warp, and knocking out most of the craft's primary systems.

"Where the hell are we?" the old officer snapped, glancing back at her.

"I don't know, damnit!" the young woman cried, "Main power and long-range sensors are offline!"

"Can you bring them back?" the man demanded, slamming his fist down hard in frustration, trying to veer the craft into a straight line, taking it out of the haphazard, helter-skelter curve that it was trapped in.

"How am I supposed to know?" the woman shrieked, glaring at him in frustration, "The reserve power from the transporters is barely keeping life support active!"

The Lieutenant glanced out the viewport of the scoutship, spotting what looked to be a planetoid in the distance. He'd managed to regain control of the craft, and sighed, pointing towards it.

"Look!" he called, to her, "Over there! You figure it's M-Class?"

"I hope so," she snapped, "We need to land, and get our bearings. Maybe somebody down there will be able to help us make repairs. Besides...we don't have an awful lot of oxygen left."

The Lieutenant nodded in agreement, and veered the ship towards the red-brown world, as fast as the damaged engines would carry it. After about sixty seconds, they were close enough that he could make out the features of the world, desolate as it appeared.

"There seems to be an atmosphere," the woman spoke, squinting at the world outside the cockpit, "As long as it's got a high enough oxygen level, we'll be safe to land."

The Lieutenant nodded again, and the craft shook, and shuddered as it struck the outer layer of the atmosphere, fire leaping up onto the outside of the viewport as the little starship's hull superheated. The Lieutenant and the young woman braced themselves, though the man struggled for control at the helm of the vessel.

"We're coming in too fast!" he snapped, "Damnit! Engines are cutting out! I'm going to try and steer us near one of those clearings!"

He motioned towards one of the flat areas on the planet's surface, and his partner swallowed nervously. The hull squealed as the Lieutenant pulled back on the controls, raising the lower end of the vessel, as it came nearer, nearer, and nearer to the planet's surface. Areas that had seemed remote and miles away a second ago were so close that the young woman could see all the little details and etches in the rock faces, the craters where other ships must have surely crashed previously. She bit down, hard, on her lower lip as the ship pulled up one more time, in position for a crash landing -

- and the impact threw both of them back. The ship's hull shuddered, and groaned, scraping against the rocky, dusty surface of the planet, the glow of its red-brown sky lighting up, just dimly, the inside of the cockpit. The two occupants of the craft, both knocked to its rear, held onto each other for dear life as their starship screeched to a halt.

Finally, it was done. The ship had stopped moving. The landscape had stopped coming closer. They'd managed to stop about 100 meters short of a group of jagged-looking rock faces, thankfully before they'd been smashed up against them. The Lieutenant stood, brushed himself off, and glanced down at the younger Ensign.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"Fine," she groaned, "Just a little bruised."

She reached into her pocket, and pulled out a tricorder. Flipping it open, she started to take readings of the mysterious world outside the craft. There was definitely oxygen in this world's atmosphere, more than enough oxygen, in fact. And there appeared to be no life-forms at all nearby. She breathed a sigh of relief.

"It's safe," she smiled.

The Lieutenant smiled back at her. That was, quite possibly, the best news he'd heard all day. He reached under the flight control panel, and pulled out an old toolkit, grinning enthusiastically, happy just to be alive.

"Good," he answered, "Now, let's see what we can do about patching this old bird up."

The young woman nodded, and tapped the dim LCARS panel that would open the shuttle door. The ramp lowered, and the Ensign expected to see more of this world's barren-looking landscape.

What she saw was a moving wall of blackness, fluid and relentless, charging towards them. She screamed.

The Lieutenant turned just as the darkness seemed to leap out, towards the entrance to the craft. His eyes widened, and he pulled out his phaser instinctively.

"Close the doors, Sheila!" he screamed, "Damnit, close the doors!"

She slapped her hand down against the controls, but it was too late. The darkness poured in, far enough to take hold of the closing ramp, and wrenched it back down. It slipped into the shuttle swiftly, and surrounded them. It choked them, covered them, coated them, crushed them. Within seconds, they'd ceased struggling, and their lifeless bodies had become one with the black, fluidic mass that had encompassed them.

The blackness took form, a humanoid form. It was liquid, and blackness, like a living, breathing sludge. It sneered, its voice possessing a deep, and unnatural echo.

"At last," it roared, triumphantally, "At last!"


	5. V: Outsides

_Outsides_

_0801. 0802. 0803._

Data glanced at his chronometer as he stood in the transporter room, his bag slung over his shoulder, waiting for Captain Maddox to arrive. He had confirmed in his memory banks seventy-three times already that this was, indeed, the correct location. This was exactly where Captain Maddox had asked him to be present, and at precisely the correct time. He was concerned, for a moment, that perhaps the Captain's celebration in San Fransisco last night might have resulted in his intoxication, and thus a delay in the launch of the _Rorschach_.

Data's thoughts also went out to Spot, and to Geordi LaForge, who had, thankfully, agreed to watch over the animal while Data was away. The last time that a crew member had adopted Spot, it had been Worf, and upon Spot's return the feline had expressed sincere dislike of his adoptor, or captor, as the creature likely saw the unfortunate Lieutenant Commander Worf.

Before another thought on the matter could follow, the turbolift doors opened, and Maddox came barrelling into the room, holding a bag of his own, the look on his face one of frustration, exasperation, but still a limited amount of his usual excitement.

"Data!" he grinned, "There you are! Come along," he motioned, pointing back out through the door, "We haven't much time!"

Data paused, and arched an eyebrow, looking back at his new commanding officer with a slight amount of confusion.

"I do not understand," he stated. "Where are we going?"

Maddox pointed towards the transporter controls, hurriedly.

"Transporters are down for maintenance," Maddox explained, "So we're going to have to board the old-fashioned way. I've got a shuttle taking off for the _Rorschach_ in less than five minutes. Hurry!"

Maddox dashed back down the hallway, tripping over officers, carts, and the occasional civilian engineer on his way towards the station's shuttlebay. Data simply followed along behind him, stepping quickly. His projected calculations were that his current pace would still give them approximately a minute's time to spare before launch.

The crew completing maintenance on the work bees in the shuttle bay glanced up at the sound of a large crash. As Maddox had entered, he'd managed to knock over four massive cargo containers, each of which would have to be lifted by tractor beam back into place, because of their weight.

"Hey!" one particularly surly member of the ground crew snapped, "Watch where you're going!"

Said member of the ground crew was equally surprised when a pale-skinned man in a red uniform stepped into the room behind the clumsy captain, and lifted the crates - which must have been at least a good two hundred pounds each - back into place, seemingly without effort.

Data, after having replaced the crates, stepped towards the segment of the bay that housed the new Type-Nine shuttles, which seemed to be right where Maddox was headed. The bay was abuzz with Work Bee shuttles, runabouts, work pods, and every manner of short-ranged manned craft short of a Venture-Class that one could imagine. When Data arrived at their ship, Maddox had just finished cramming his bag into one of the cargo compartments, and was glancing up at Data frantically.

"Hurry up!" Maddox commanded, "We have less than two minutes!"

The android stepped up the landing ramp, and keyed in the controls near the ramp's edge that raised it, and closed them into the shuttle. He set his bag down, opened the cargo compartment, and then set the bag inside. He moved to the front of the shuttle, taking a seat directly beside Maddox, glancing over at him.

"Sir," Data questioned, "If the station's transporters were out, could the _Rorschach _not have simply beamed us up herself?"

Maddox just grinned, and started to fire up the craft's thrusters.

"Data, Data, Data," Maddox mused, "There's something to be said for boarding the old-fashioned way. A certain quality to it, you might say."

"I see," Data spoke, pausing as he didn't quite understand, and glancing back at Maddox with a look of confusion.

Maddox grimaced and raised a palm to his face.

"That," Maddox continued, "And my Chief Engineer has apparently taken Main Power offline to complete repairs to Environmental Controls."

"Ah," Data nodded. The communications device on the dashboard of the shuttle flickered, and the sound of a deep male voice filled the tiny craft.

"Shuttlecraft _Wegener_, this is McKinley Station," the operator spoke, in a monotone, "You are clear for departure. Please proceed to Door Five."

Maddox smiled, and turned on their transmitter.

"Thank you, McKinley. Engaging impulse engines and maneuvering thrusters," he confirmed. The impulse engines hummed to life, and the craft slowly started to drift forward, and the bay seemed to brush past them in the main viewport as they moved closer, and closer to the opening bay doors, and deep, dark, open space outside.

"Exciting, isn't it?" Maddox grinned.

Data feigned a grin, or something close to it. This was all very exciting, indeed, but even with his emotion chip engaged he had a certain...difficulty...displaying his emotions abroad.

"Indeed," Data confirmed.

The shuttlebay doors moved closer, and closer, and closer. Stars became visible, outside, as did a clear view of the planet Earth. Data glanced down, astounded as just how much more remarkable the planet appeared in plain sight than it did in the _Enterprise'_s astrometrics lab.

"Fascinating," he whispered.

"That's not even the start of it," Maddox smiled, pointing out the viewport, to the right, as he steered their craft towards its destination. "Look."

Data glanced over, focusing his yellow optics on what appeared to be a small dock, seemingly wrapped around what looked like a Nebula-Class starship, equipped with a full sensor pod, its lights flickering somewhat sporatically. Maddox stood up, and beamed as they approached, tapping a few buttons on the panel in front of him, triggering the autopilot.

"Isn't she magnificent?" Maddox mused.

"She?" Data pondered.

"The _Rorschach_," Maddox spoke, almost breathlessly.

Data glanced out at the vessel's exterior, and paused, again glancing over at Maddox in confusion.

"The psychologist _Rorshach, _after whom this vessel is named, was clearly male," Data protested, "I do not understand how one can refer to a vessel with such clear gender identity as female."

Maddox rolled his eyes, and pointed out the viewport again, as they came closer. The crisscrossing aztec panelling on the hull of the ship was visible, as were the numerous phaser strips, viewports, and the glowing, red-white deflector that adorned the ship's underside.

"Data, you have to look at her. Really look," Maddox explained, "She's a lady. She's beautiful from here."

"From the shuttlecraft?" Data pondered.

"From the _outside_," Maddox corrected. The craft swerved, turning towards the opening shuttlebay doors behind the _Rorschach_'s command deck. The communications unit on the dashboard chirped a second time.

"This is _USS Rorschach_ to shuttlecraft _Ve...v...weg...Wegener,"_ Maddox's tactical officer called out to them, struggling as usual through her thick accent for pronunciation, "You are clear for landing. Velcome home, keptin."

Maddox pressed the transmitter, smiling eagerly.

"Thank you, Lieutenant," Maddox responded. The open bay doors came closer, and closer, until the shuttle was encompassed by the buzz and the activity of the lively little bay. The shuttle, still on autopilot, glided into the room, then to a halt, and then started to lower itself until it set down with a slight jolt. Maddox moved to the rear of the craft, and opened the cargo compartment, liberating his gear, and tossing Data's bag over to the new First Officer. Data caught it, and glanced up.

"Thank you, sir," Data acknowledged, "However, in future I ask that you refrain from throwing this particular parcel. Several of its contents are fragile."

"Of course," Maddox nodded, eagerly keying in the commands to the ramp that would lower it. When it fell, standing directly at the edge of the ramp was a young woman with long, chestnut hair tied back into a ponytail. While most of the _Rorschach_ crew wore the mostly black, slightly more comfortable, jumpsuit, she was standing before them in a full, gold and black duty uniform. She stood, rigidly, at attention, and barked out to the rest of the shuttlebay as soon as Maddox took his first step out.

"Keptin on deck!" she hollered. The shuttlebay crew, busy with their tasks, simply ignored her, as usual. She had developed a reputation on this ship for being just a little too strict, in regard to pomp and circumstance. She glowered, for a moment, at an Ensign on the other side of the room, as if scorning him for not having done his rightful duty.

"Relax, Lieutenant," Maddox smiled, glancing up at the lights. "I see main power's back online."

"I claim full responsibility for the malfunctions," she spoke, still rather rigidly, standing at attention.

"But the malfunction had nothing to do with Security," Maddox protested, "It was in Environmental Controls. That's Wright's job."

"But I vas in command vhen the malfunction occured, keptin," she explained, "And I am villing to accept responsibility for having delayed our launch."

"By five minutes," Maddox mused, "Hardly an offense, Lieutenant."

"But an offense nonetheless, keptin," she barked, still at attention.

"Why are you still standing like that?" Maddox sighed. "I told you to relax."

"You must first, according to General Orders, command to stand at ease, and then you may order me to relax. Standard drill, sir."

Maddox rolled his eyes at the too-enthusiastic Tactical Officer, and sighed.

"At ease, and relax."

Immediately, she changed her footing, standing so that her feet were about one and a half feet apart, and she held her hands behind her back.

"Thank you, keptin," she smiled. She glanced over Maddox's shoulder towards the newcomer to the ship, a man with pale white skin, golden eyes, and a red Command division uniform. His rank was that of a Lieutenant Commander. She recognized immediately that he was Lieutenant Commander Cho's replacement.

"Lieutenant Commander Data," Maddox introduced, "This is Lieutenant Tatiyana Elena Chekov."

"Lieutenant Commander Data? _The_ Lieutenant Commander Data? From the _Enterprise_?" Tatiyana burst, her jaw now agape, "_Kakya vstrecha_!"

The exclamation in her native tongue was not lost on the android.

"_Spaseebo balshoye_," Data responded, seemingly not missing a beat. At this, the young woman's eyes widened even further, and her face lit up in a grin.

"_Ve gavareeth pa Ruski_?" she responded, almost breathless in surprise.

"_Da_," Data confirmed, nodding his head, "_Shazheete pozhluista...kakya u vas prafesiya?_"

Maddox glanced back and forth at each of them as they spoke, scratching at his head in confusion. Finally, at the last question, Maddox waved his hands, silencing them both.

"I hate to interrupt, Lieutenant Chekov," he interrupted, "But may I have my First Officer back, now?"

"Momentarily," Data responded, still looking intently at Lieutenant Chekov, half-smiling, seeming to enjoy the opportunity to use some of the language programming that Doctor Soong had bestowed on him, "Lieutenant Chekov was expressing surprise at my presence, to which I responded with thanks. She requested whether I spoke Russian, which I confirmed. I asked her, following that, in what capacity she served aboard this vessel, and I am curious to learn the answer."

"Lieutenant Chekov is my tactical officer," Maddox smiled, motioning towards the lieutenant in gold, "And I'm convinced she's the best damned shot in the whole fleet with a forward torpedo launcher. I'm very glad to have her aboard."

"Thank you, keptin!" Lieutenant Chekov responded, going rigid at attention again, "I vill make an effort to live up to that expectation, and - "

"I'm sure you will," Maddox interrupted, seizing Data by the arm, and forcibly dragging him out of the shuttlebay. "Now, if you'll excuse us, Lieutenant..."

Data glanced back behind him, at her, looking curious in a slightly boyish way.

"_Da-svi-da-niya!_" he called out, as Maddox yanked him the rest of the way out of the lift.

"_Dasvidaniya!_" Chekov called out in response, grinning excitedly, "Velcome aboard, Lieutenant Commander!"


	6. VI: Hours

Okay, ladies and gentlemen...I just wanted to take a moment before we begin to say that I thank you for all your words of assistance, criticism, and praise through the writing of this little fic. Of the four projects so far that I've posted on , this is by far my favorite.

Before I begin...I should warn you that I am nothing like Data. ^^; In fact, I'm more like Lieutenant Wright, the dear lad. I am mechanically incompetent, inept, and otherwise completely useless. And so, rather than sending reply comments to all the people who were kind enough to review my work, I shall post my responses here, before beginning the next chapter. Because I have ABSOLUTELY NO IDEA how to reply to comments or reviews on yet. Hopefully, I'll figure it out eventually!

**christinesangel100: Thank you very much for your words of praise, and for your request for me to keep going with this one. I hope that you keep on reading, and I hope you're satisfied with what my story has in store for dear Data, and all the other NextGen characters *cough*YAR*cough* who are soon to appear. If not...well...*hands her a bag of rotten tomatoes that she can throw at him if the need arises* Just be gentle...don't aim for the face...^^**

**Miss Misty June: Your praise is also blush-worthy, for me, but I hardly think myself worthy of it. There are some pretty bloody good TNG fics out there, after all, and this one still has a long way to go before approaching the precedent that many of them have set. Your comments on Data and the characters I've introduced are quite helpful, as well - Data is always a character I've enjoyed writing, and it's good to know that I've at least got the tone and mannerisms right. As for lack of reviews...well, the fic's only been up a couple weeks. Regardless of the number of reviews, this is one project I want to see to fruition. Because I have an ending in mind (albeit not a completely happy one) that I think the characters of this story deserve. The writers of TNG created a world that has become a play-place of mine...but one with many moral and ethical implications and messages. There is, too, a message to this story. Many, actually. But...I'll get to that when I get to that. ^^**

Thank you again for your comments - I will be posting two chapters tonight, one which is a slight departure from Data & Co., and the other which is both a look at Data on his new ship, and a look at the way Picard really sees his Second Officer. Featuring guest appearance by Beverly Crusher.

PS...even though this was originally for Fanfic 100, I got stumped for a while on Days, Weeks, Months, and Years. So I just rolled them all into one chapter, called Time. Story and plot development trumps rules - sorry!

Enjoy!

* * *

_Hours_

Twelve hours had passed since the Scoutship _Icarus_ last reported in to Starbase Thirty-Four. Naturally, given that its last known trajectory brought it dangerously close to the Vagra sector, an area of space quarantined for almost ten years, Starfleet had been quick to send out a rescue party, and determine whether or not the vessel might have passed anywhere even near Vagra II. The last time a downed ship had landed on the world, a Starfleet security officer, Natasha Yar, had been killed by a malevolent entity known as Armus, a creature which, according to the medical logs of one Doctor Beverly Crusher, "drained the life right out of her."

The creature's origin was never determined, nor were the nature of its powers. While, throughout the years, many had considered dispatching probes, or sending a team of researchers to observe the creature, Captain Picard's stance on the issue had been very clear: No Federation starship would ever again make a landing on Vagra II, and, if possible, no Federation starship would so much as enter the sector.

Commander Christopher Hobbes, acting Captain of the _USS Sutherland,_ paced the deck of the ship nervously, contemplating his next move. His ship was dangerously close to the Vagra sector, and there was a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach that something had befallen the crew of the scoutship. They'd been assigned to do routine patrols, and had neglected to check in. Following their ion trail showed that they'd entered the Vagra sector...their last known trajectory indicated that they'd moved in relatively close proximity to Vagra II.

Those two officers were out here, somewhere...probably in danger. But Hobbes also had the safety of his own crew to consider, and the orders from the fleet. Could he really justify taking the several hundred men and women on his vessel to their deaths, at the hands of a creature that had already proved itself hostile?

No...he wouldn't be taking them to their deaths, would he? They were a capable crew. They'd proved it during their maiden voyage, patrolling the Romulan border during the Klingon Civil War. Hobbes knew that staying here, behind the safety lines, was cowardice and indifference towards the lives that were at stake here.

"Tactical," Hobbes barked, "Fire a Class-V probe into the system. Have it follow the ion trail of the missing ship."

"Aye, Captain," the officer at the tactical station, a bearded half-Vulcan called Holtz replied, hitting a series of buttons on the panel before him. He glanced up, towards Hobbes, crossing his arms calmly and coolly. "Probe is away, Captain."

"Good," Hobbes responded, before glancing back towards the viewscreen, watching as the glowing orange ball disappear as it soared farther and farther away. There were a few seconds of silence, as the probe started to transmit telemetry and sensor readings, until the console in front of the tactical officer started to trill, beep, and wail.

"Report!" Hobbes barked, standing and approaching the officer's station.

"Sensor readings from the probe are picking up an object moving out of the sector at sublight speeds, towards our current location. It is not transmitting on any known frequencies, and the transponder seems to be disabled."

Hobbes paused, and raised his hand over his mouth as he pondered, deep in thought, his next move.

"Check the mass, cross-reference with last known reading on the _Icarus_," he commanded.

"Mass is consistent with a Venture-class scoutship," Holtz responded. "They will enter visual range in less than a minute."

"Onscreen," Hobbes snapped. As the bridge crew watched, with hopeful fascination, the image of a tiny ship started to come further and further into view. It swerved, changing course jerkily. Its running lights appeared to be off, and the ship itself appeared to be damaged, venting warp plasma. At the sight of its flight path change, Hobbes glanced back over at Holtz, curiously.

"What are they doing?" he demanded.

"Engaging autopilot, it would seem," Holtz responded, "They have reduced speed and are on approach to main shuttlebay."

"Lifesigns?" Hobbes asked, again.

"Negative," Holtz responded, "Either they placed the ship on autopilot before life support ran out, or we are dealing with a starship of an unusual level of intelligence."

Hobbes understood the implication. It was possible that the creature Picard had encountered had managed to board the ship. It was, then, also possible that it planned on boarding the _Sutherland_, and wreaking havoc unimaginable on the crew, as it had to Picard's away team. Hobbes couldn't risk it right now.

"Lock a tractor beam," Hobbes snapped, "Keep them close...but let's not let them aboard quite yet. I want a sensor scan on the vessel's interior. A thorough scan."

"Yes, sir," Holtz responded, but then glanced curiously at his console as it started to chirp. On the main viewscreen, Hobbes watched as a bright blue tractor beam extended, grasping the ship for a moment, but then watched as the tiny craft broke free.

"There was a resonance burst of some kind dispersing along the ship's hull," the tactical officer reported, "Our tractor beam cannot maintain a lock. They are changing course, bearing 223 mark 18.

"Change course to intercept," Hobbes barked, wiping a bead of sweat off his brow and glancing ahead, at his Flight Control Officer, a girl in red, probably hardly a year out of the academy. "Full impulse."

"Aye, sir," the Ensign responded, changing the ship's heading and following along behind the scoutship.

Hobbes glanced back over at his tactical officer, his face stern and his eyes wild. Whatever was on that shuttle wasn't alive, and it certainly wasn't the exploration team from Starbase Thirty-Four.

"Target phasers and photon torpedoes," he commanded, "Fire when ready."

"Sir!" Holtz barked back, "The scoutship is coming about. They're setting a collision course!"

"Shields!" Hobbes snapped, "Raise shields!"

"Too late!" Holtz cried.

"All hands!" Hobbes exclaimed, "Brace for impact!"

The _Sutherland_ rocked, as the scoutship plowed viciously into the larger ship's weapons pod. Flames kicked up along the hull, and chunks of debris floated off into space. The engineering and science consoles on the bridge burst, spewing sparks and debris, and knocking the two officers stationed at them to the ground, unconscious. Hobbes was knocked back into the wall, and struggled to regain his balance using the arm of his chair as a hand-hold. The bridge lights flickered, before switching to the dim red glow of the emergency lights, and when the shuddering of the _Sutherland _had ceased, there was silence on the bridge.

Hobbes glanced around, fixing his gaze finally on the Tactical officer.

"Damage report," he commanded.

"Casualties reported on all decks," Holtz replied, "Shield generators offline, photon torpedo launchers offline, primary sensors offline. Structural integrity compromised on four decks. Radiation leak in fifteen compartments."

"Seal the breaches," Hobbes snapped, "And initiate radiation protocols immediately." He sighed, crossing his arms, and heading back down, to sit in his chair. "Contact Starfleet Command, inform them that the _Icarus_ has been lost. But tell them that quarantine breach for Vagra sector has been averted."

"Aye, sir," Holtz sighed.

Now, the repairs would begin. Hopefully, before long, they'd be in good enough condition to return to a starbase, or even to McKinley or Jupiter Station. In either case...they'd accomplished their mission. Hobbes just felt his heart sank, knowing that his crew had paid a heavy price for it. Picard had been right - there was something unnatural about this sector. Something dangerous. Something evil.

* * *

The creature slithered through the Jefferies tube, on Deck Nine. It had been clever enough, after having studied the controls in the damaged ship, to have discovered how to operate the emergency transporters. Well, that...and the life forces and memories of the three Starfleet crew to date that he'd absorbed had proven useful, as well. He'd been able to avoid detection...to make his way onto this, a bigger ship.

This vessel was powerful...but still, perhaps, not powerful enough to best the Shining Ones. It was unlikely, however, that a more powerful vessel would be found. And the creature wasn't about to wait its revenge out any longer.


	7. VII: Time

_Time_

After several hours of reconfiguring the plasma conduits, a process which had covered his hands with burns, scars, debris, and tiny flecks of liquid gel, Lieutenant "Jace" Wright smiled victoriously, glancing up at the warp core of the Nebula-Class starship to which he was assigned.

"There," he sneered. He leaned over the edge of the catwalk he was standing on, and spat out at it. The spittle dripped down the clear housing that contained the matter and antimatter, and one of the junior engineers watched from the other side of the room, rolled her eyes, and continued her current task...whatever that was.

"Now you're going to behave," Jace snapped, addressing the core as if she were the heart and soul of the ship itself, "You're going to sit still, and work with me. You're going to co-operate. Because if I have to repair one more faulty manifold, then, oh ho, you're going to need a full refit by the time I'm done with you, girl."

He picked up a diagnostic tool, and hurled it aggressively at the casing. It clinked off harmlessly, dropping down the shaft to the bottom. Instead of a clang where it landed, there was the crack of the instrument on a human head, followed by a disgruntled "Ow!" Jace cleared his throat, nervously, and peered over the edge.

"Sorry!" he called. He then shifted his gaze, glancing sternly at the core. "You made me do that on purpose," he accused.

"Lieutenant Wright, I presume," a voice called out behind him, too strangely monotone to be completely human, "Whom do you address?"

Wright whirled around, and was prepared to address a Vulcan, or an Andorian, or some equally stoic creature. When he saw who'd addressed him, his eyes widened. Wright glanced at the white-gold skinned man in the red command uniform, then at Maddox, who accompanied him, and then back at the man. Most Starfleet officers knew this man's name...if one could truly call him a man, of course...but only those particularly versed in robotics or engineering were familiar with his face. He was well-known, especially in biomechanical texts.

"Oh no," Wright whispered, "Oh no, oh no, oh no!" He turned from his superior officers, his face contorted in panic, and then he took off towards the nearest plasma manifold. "I'm busy! You two are going to have to leave!"

"Mister Wright," Maddox snapped, his tone heavy, "I am giving our new First Officer a tour. And when your first officer asks you a question, you will answer it."

"First Officer?!?" Wright gasped, his face dissolving into terror. Wright had been assigned to this hellhole ship, full of robotics and gadgets and gizmos and whatever other mechanical nightmares Bruce Maddox and Starfleet Robotics could conjure up. He'd had to run maintenance on machines that most people only read about in scientific journals. He'd had to fight, tooth, nail, and claw, with about every mechanical menace he could imagine. And, oh, had he ever fought - and not once had he ever let the synthetic bastards best him. His spite of computers, of the starship's interior, and of machines was what motivated him as a chief engineer. It was what drove him to excel.

What had Bruce done now...?

"No, no, NO!" Wright snapped, "I told you after the conversing panels, I told you after the prosthetic twenty-foot tentacle of death, and I told you after the Risan mind-sex-probe-things. You can play with whatever toys you want in the Cargo Bays and the Science Labs, but for God's sake, Maddox, keep them out of engineering!"

"I was not aware that Starfleet was responsible for the manufacture of the Risan mind-probes," Data remarked, raising an eyebrow in surprise and glancing over at Maddox. Maddox merely brushed, and broke into an uneasy chuckle.

"Well...we didn't actually manufacture them," Bruce explained, shakily, "I just...er, we just invented them. And as for the tentacle," he snapped, glaring back at Wright, "That was designed for a security officer from a species that requires such a limb as a tail, for balance! Without it, he can't - !"

"Look, I'm not debating this!" Wright snapped, glaring at both of them, "I'm just saying, keep your damned machines out of my Engineering!"

Data arched an eyebrow, realizing that Wright was referring specifically to him, and stepped forward.

"I am not a toy, nor a machine under Captain Maddox's control," Data explained, his face stern, "And I concur with the Captain's previous statement. You will utilize the proper respect, or you shall be met with severe discipline. Is that clear?" The last few words almost bit into Wright, who recoiled with almost an irrational fear.

"Y-yes, Commander Data, sir," the Engineer mumbled.

"You will also provide me with a progress report. Have the starboard power couplings been realigned, and main power restored to Deck Four?" Data asked, quickly.

"Y-yes, sir!" Wright barked back, "However, there are indications that the power grid in Junction Four on Deck Seventeen has the potential to cause on overload in the grid if left - "

"Then you will proceed to Deck Seventeen and repair the power relays," Data snapped, "I will not tolerate carelessness, nor will I allow a potential threat, even one as slight as a faulty power relay, to jeopardize this mission, this vessel, or this crew. Do I make myself clear, Lieutenant?"

"Y-yes, sir," Wright nodded, quickly, scrambling to pick up his tools. Maddox glanced over at Data with a look that smacked of admiration, and amusement.

"That was...well said," Maddox mused.

"I have observed the command protocols utilized by Captain Picard and Commander Riker for some time," Data explained, "And I am confident not only in my ability to emulate and recreate such behaviours, but to elaborate and improve in them. I will endeavour to improve my programming in these regards as the journey progresses - "

Again, Maddox found himself waving Data's babble down.

"Alright, alright," he agreed quickly, "Well! The engines are back online. Number One, shall we proceed to the bridge?"

It took Data a moment to process the military endearment, a term that, in the past, he'd associated almost exclusively with Commander Riker.

"Yes, Captain," Data responded. "Let us proceed."

Maddox and Data stepped back through Engineering, towards a turbolift. They entered, and the doors closed with a whoosh. Near the core, Wright breathed a sigh of relief, but then the look on his face turned to one of vindictive fury. He glared back at the core, waving a spengler wrench threateningly.

"You did that on purpose," he snapped, "I _know_ you did that on purpose."

The core glowed and hummed, as if laughing at him. Grumbling, Wright gathered his toolkit and headed for Deck Seventeen.

* * *

No sooner did the doors of the turbolift open again than a resounding "Keptin on the bridge!" filled the scant bridge of the _USS Rorschach_. Upon stepping out of the lift, Data found himself greeted again by Lieutenant Chekov, standing at attention, her stance unwavering.

"Relax," Maddox groaned. Chekov didn't budge.

"Allow me, sir," Data motioned, stepping forward. He tilted his head slightly, as he remodulated his vocal subprocessors to emulate the inflections of an Academy drill sergeant. "Crew stand aaaaaaat-ease!"

Immediately, Lieutenant Chekov responded, assuming the proper position.

"Now you may command her to relax, sir," Data spoke, to Maddox. Maddox groaned, rolled his eyes, and then covered them with his hands. He wasn't sure at the moment who was more regimented, more mechanical, or more stubborn - Lieutenant Chekov, or Lieutenant Commander Data. He groaned, and then sighed.

"Just relax," Maddox snapped.

"Aye, keptin!" Tatiyana responded briskly, taking her place again at the tactical station. Her face was aglow with excitement. She'd always been proud of her family's place in Starfleet, and of her own accomplishments as a Starfleet officer, short though her career was. This mission was just another chance for her to prove herself - and she intended on doing just that, to Captain Maddox, to Commander Data, to the crew, and to the fleet.

Maddox was more concerned with just staying alive...rather, making sure that Earth stayed alive. He'd had a sense of dread since putting together the figurative dots, the writing on the wall...he knew that whatever was out there wasn't going to be friendly. And when they found it...well, it wasn't going to be a pretty find.

The ensign in red seated at helm control glanced down at the terminal in front of him, and spoke softly.

"Engage bioneural interface Gallant-Theta-One."

Immediately, two segments of the panel parted, making way for what looked like large ports, openings. Maddox watched with fascination as the ensign took his hands - prosthetic hands, made of what appeared to be steel or some other metallic alloy - and placed them inside the ports. There was a brief flicker, and the ensign jolted for a moment, and then glanced up at Maddox.

"McKinley signals ready for our departure!" he called out.

"Thank you, Ensign...?" Maddox spoke, his voice trailing off as he scrambled to remember the Ensign's name. This was the same Ensign who'd been at Flight Control when their ship had been struck by the energy wave that had killed his last First Officer. What was his name again?

"Ensign Daniel Gallant," the young officer reported, "How should I proceed, sir?"

Maddox paused, glancing out the main viewer. This was the beginning of a journey, a crucial journey...and he had no idea how the journey would end. But even the greatest of journeys had to start off on a single step, taken with a single foot. A single command would suffice.

"Data, take your place at Ops," Maddox spoke, delaying that single command.

The bridge was small, but had sufficient space for all four officers to function. The tactical terminal was to Maddox's left, and this was where Chekov was stationed. Helm control was in front of him, where Gallant was seated. Ops was off to the right, and it was where Data now stood. The Nebula-Class bridge was compressed, and had not been designed for comfort. She was, after all, a science ship, not a floating city like the Galaxy or Ambassador-Classes. It would be enough, though. She was a good ship, with a good crew. The _Rorschach_ would serve them well...and would bring them home, just as it always had.

Maddox sighed, watching the empty space in front of them, with Earth just off to starboard.

"Mister Gallant, take us out," he commanded, "One-quarter impulse."

_Here goes nothing._

* * *

Picard glanced out the viewport of McKinley station, as the _USS Rorschach_ made her way out of port.

_Seven days_, he reassured himself, _They'll only be out for seven days._

The more he repeated the phrase to himself, the more he found himself disbelieving it. He paced, nervously, as the starship began to move farther and farther from view, but he not once took his eyes from it, keeping them trained on the vessel that his former Operations officer was now running, at the side of a man who only years ago had asked to have him dismantled. If anyone had told him a week ago, a month ago, hell, years ago that he'd be sending Data on this sort of suicide mission, he'd never have believed them.

No...not a suicide mission, and not one that Picard had sent the android on. Data had chosen to go of his own accord. Picard couldn't have stopped him, and wouldn't have, given the conviction that the android seemed to have regarding the mission. The greatest possibility was that this was another one of Bruce Maddox's damned foolish scientific escapades. The destructive force that Data had claimed threatened Earth might be no more than a nebula, some spare debris from a passing comet, perhaps even a spaceborne life form having lost its way from a herd. Picard had very little faith in Bruce Maddox.

Picard's fears did not stem from any faith in Maddox whatsoever. They stemmed from his faith in Data, a faith that had become unwavering. A faith as strong of that of a father, hearing the convicted words of a son.

Rene and Maurice Picard were gone. Jean-Luc Picard was the last survivor. His legacy was not to be written with a bloodline, and he had made peace with that fact by now. He chuckled lightly as the _Rorschach_ finally disappeared into warp, vanishing amidst the stars. His eyes were wet, and weary, and he wiped them before planting himself firmly into the chair of his quarters, scant though they were in comparison to, say, the Ready Room on the _Enterprise-D_.

The last seven years, Data had been like a child - growing, learning, advancing. Picard had helped the android through his first tastes of emotion, love, fear, art, beauty, despair, loss, and all else that humanity had to offer. He felt responsible for the android, and for his development.

He'd lost the _Enterprise-D._ He'd lost Rene and Maurice. Data was the only real legacy that Picard had left...the only real thing that Picard would leave behind, aside from the stuff of dusty textbooks and academy lectures.

_Seven days,_ he reassured himself, _Seven days..._

There was a trilling at his door, indicating that someone was seeking entrance.

"Come," he commanded.

Beverly Crusher stepped into the room, smiling. She was clothed in her standard duty uniform, blue with black shoulders, and her face shone with a grin the likes of which Picard had not witnessed since they'd lost the _Enterprise. _

"Not much longer now," she smiled, "Are you excited?"

"Should I be?" Picard snapped, forlornly. Beverly glanced at him, a look of concern on her face at the sound of his voice. The captain seemed to be gripped with hopelessness...loss. Beverly had known about his brother and nephew's deaths, but feared now that perhaps tragedy had struck this man, whom she cared so deeply about, once more.

"Jean-Luc," Beverly whispered, "It's only another three weeks...of course you should be excited."

"Three weeks?" Picard cried out, standing aggressively from the chair, practically throwing the computer terminal off of his desk and onto the floor. "He told me seven days! Damn that Bruce Maddox and his confounded - !"

Beverly's dazed look spelled out, quite clearly, to Picard that she had no idea what he was talking about.

"Obviously we are on two completely different pages, Beverly," Picard sighed, retreating into the chair and putting both of his hands over his face, as if hiding himself away.

Beverly arched an eyebrow, approached, and took the captain's hand into her own.

"Why don't you tell me a little bit more about your page, Jean-Luc," she whispered. She lifted the hand, and kissed it gently. Picard glanced up, and smiled at her, seeing the comfort in her eyes, and feeling the care in her touch that he very much needed right now.

"It's Data," he whispered, "Bruce Maddox has dragged him off on some damned assignment on the _Rorschach._ I do not trust the man...but Data seems convinced that the mission is of great importance. He also seems convinced that there is a great danger that he won't return."

Beverly understood, and sat slightly on the desk, her eyes still locked on the captain's, as she smiled, giving him that healing, happy warmth that he needed right now.

"It will be alright," Beverly soothed, "We can't get rid of Data that easily."

Picard paused, the scene from the restaurant playing back in his mind over and over again. He and Data had made a pact, had they not? That they would all be together again? He smiled slightly, but then paused, thinking back to the way that the android had entered the restaurant. The way that he'd walked. The way that his uncertainty had only struck when he thought he'd met Picard's disapproval.

He remembered that feeling well.

"Did I ever tell you the story," Picard asked, casually, "About the last time I talked to my father?"

"I know how your father felt about Starfleet," Beverly grinned, rolling her eyes, "I guess I'm in for an interesting story."

"You're damned right you are," Picard chuckled, "I stepped into a little restaurant, in Labarre. A little old place the local old men used to frequent. I never thought I'd be one of them." He cleared his throat, remembering the day well. "At any rate, I walked in, and told him that I'd been given captaincy of the _Stargazer. _ He'd never approved of my entry into Starfleet Academy...but every time I came home, and we spoke, I hoped that something I'd done...something I'd accomplished...just might change his mind. All I ever wanted was his...approval."

Beverly smiled, still holding his hand, a little bit sadly now.

"You never got it," she whispered, "Did you?"

"Oh, of course not," Picard sighed, "He was as stern and as stubborn as ever. Actually, probably worse than before, now that I think of it. I was upset...I walked out."

Beverly paused, swallowed, and glanced back at him, still not completely understanding why the story was coming out now.

"Does it bother you, now?" she asked, "Because of Rene and Maurice? The way that things turned out with your father?"

"No," Picard sighed, raising a palm to his face once again, "It bothers me because last night, an android with a great strut to his step walked into a Parisian cafe to give me news that he'd become First Officer. That he was advancing. That he was going on a bold new adventure, all of his own, one on which I could not guide him, or protect him, or assist him. And...I met him with the same reservation with which my father met me."

Beverly sighed, knowing the feeling as well as anyone else in the quadrant possibly could. Her experiences with her own son's departure had left her with similar conflicted feelings.

"Jean-Luc," she sighed, "Data was a child when he came to us. But...eventually, those children grow up. They spread their wings, and they learn to fly. And we're not always going to be there to catch him."

Picard sighed, glancing out the window at open space, where the _Rorschach_ had vanished into the great expanse.

"I know," he whispered, "But...I'll be damned if that makes this feel any easier."

Beverly crouched, slightly, and wrapped her arms warmly around him, embracing her captain, her friend, her Jean-Luc. He held her, too, as if holding on for dear life, seeking shelter in a storm. All the while, though, his gaze was fixed outside, on the expanse.

_Seven days..._he thought once more, _Seven days..._


	8. VIII: Red

_Red_

The red, hazy lights that filled the dark, dim interior of the _Sutherland_ had come too late. No one had a chance to warn the bridge before the creature had arrived. It had systematically made its way up, deck by deck, incapacitating anyone or anything that had been foolish enough to get in its way. Most of them, it had just frozen in place, harmlessly, in a sort of stasis. This was only another one of the many powers that it had been granted, by the Shining Ones, when they had created it. It wasn't, however, by any means the most impressive.

It had plans for them - for the inferior, fallible crew of this vessel. They were simpletons, tools, instruments...the creature saw them for what they were. They were drones, now at its complete disposal. They would satisfy it, fulfill its every whim. It would have such delight making them suffer...

...no. Not the humans. The humans would not suffer. At least, not yet. The creature's quarrel was with the Shining Ones, with the ones who had abandoned it. It had a quarrel, too, with the humans in the red, blue, and gold uniforms...like the one it had slain who had tried to pass it, to reach a small spacecraft of hostages, or like the bald-headed one who had infuriated it so. They, too, had abandoned it...but it had given them cause. They would suffer, but their suffering would be negligible compared to that of the Shining Ones. Compared to the ones who had abandoned it.

It had laughed, its sneer resonating throughout the bridge of the starship - _Sutherland_, had the humans called it? It mattered little. The knowledge they possessed would come to it, in time. It would all come, in time. One of the humans had taken an energy weapon, and fired a yellow-orange beam across the room, hitting it squarely. The mild discomfort of the weapon was not unfamiliar, but it was not especially effective, either. The creature released a weak wave of energy, incapacitating the man, who had three gold marks near the neck of his red uniform.

From what the creature had learned of the humans...their social status was linked to the number of the gold markers they possessed. This it knew from the knowledge granted to it by the two passengers of the scoutship that it had enveloped...as well as the old knowledge, planted in it when it had drained the life force of the other, the woman. The man who had just attacked it, in red, was the highest-ranking human it had seen so far - like the bald-headed man, Picard, as the woman, Yar, had remembered him. The creature scowled, although its facial gesture was indistinguishable beneath its thick, black liquid mass. It would not kill this 'Captain'...whoever he was. The creature had plans for him. Grand plans.

Two other officers on the bridge raised weapons, but then suddenly dropped them. The creature laughed again, thickly, at their inability to function, to move. It had frozen them in place, controlling them with its mind and its will, just as it was controlling every other person on the vessel. They all belonged to it, now. They were all its tools. The tools with which he would destroy the Shining Ones.

This ship would prove, however, to be the most glorious tool of all.

"You...won't get away with this," the Commander, frozen in place, snapped, struggling desperately to even let those simple words escape.

"How little you understand," the creature responded, laughing again, "I have been waiting a very, very long time, Commander. I have had many long years to plot out my revenge."

The creature moved closer, its black, sludgy mass moving across the deck as the Commander glanced away in disgust.

"I assure you," the creature sneered, "I will. And you will assist me. Or you will all die."

* * *

Data tugged down at his red uniform's front, a gesture he had seen both Captain Picard and Commander Riker engage in several times, while they were stationed on the bridge of the _Enterprise_. Maddox had retired to the science lab, after a few hours on the bridge, to use the sensor pod to track the anomaly, and feed the sensor data to the bridge, and to Gallant. He was being assisted by Ensign Karn, the _Rorschach_'s Deltan science officer. This left Data on the bridge, in charge of Ensign Gallant and Lieutenant Chekov. He was currently in command of the entire vessel.

He glanced down at the uniform for a moment, remarking on just how rarely he'd worn the color over the last several years. It was a color that, to humans, signified action, and passion, and spirit. To Lieutenant Commander Data, it was just another part of a visual spectrum, and had no more meaning than black, or white, or gray. There were associations, though...things that he had learned to associate the color with, things that the color reminded him of. In that respect...it did hold a certain significance.

He glanced back up at the viewscreen, observing as a starfield soared by, before his eyes. Gallant was hard at work monitoring reports from engineering, and keeping them on course. Data was developing a certain fascination with the Ensign - though Ensign Gallant was human, his limbs were mechanical, and he was capable of merging with the ship itself, effectively binding himself to it, commanding it as if it were an extension of his own body, his own self.

Data made a note to ask the officer, later, when all this was over, about how the interface functioned, about who had engineered it, and how they had learned to compensate for the electromagnetic feedback of -

Data's thoughts were interrupted when Lieutenant Chekov glanced up from the console, her dark eyes locked in an expression of surprise. It wasn't quite the optimistic, astounded surprise she'd had before, but rather one of confusion, and alarm. There was an odd trilling on the console, followed by a few scant beeps, and Tatiyana silenced them with a swift motion of her hand.

"Commander Data," she reported, worry in her voice, "Ve are receiwing a priority-vun message from Starbase Thirty-Four."

Data arched an eyebrow, and turned his head towards her quickly.

"Do they state for what purpose?" he inquired.

"I don't know," she responded, her face contorted in confusion, "They seem to be broadcasting on all frequencies, all channels." She paused, examining the message more closely, and her eyes widened as the reason for the message became apparent. "It is a distress call!"

"Onscreen," Data commanded. Chekov complied, hitting a few dials on the console she was standing before.

"On main viewer, keptin - er, Commander."

The image of the starfield was replaced by the image of a haggard-looking Andorian, wearing the garb of a command officer. There were three pips at her collar, indicating the rank of commander. Behind her, there was smoke, and flame, and flashing red lights. The expression on the Andorian's face was one of desperation.

" - repeat, this is Starbase Thirty-Four to all Federation vessels in range! We are under attack! Quarantine of Vagra II has been breached, repeat, Quarantine has been breached! We are under attack from the Federation starship - "

There was a flash of light in the background, and a blazing white filled the screen, propelling the Andorian woman forward an instant before the screen dissolved completely into flickering black and white, static. The starfield that had filled the viewscreen just seconds before returned.

Lieutenant Chekov's jaw was agape, and Gallant was glancing up at the viewscreen in shock. Data's head twitched slightly, and one of his eyebrows mildly arched. His face took on a look of unnatural, nagging fear, as if a ghost were standing before him, laughing at him, from his very past. Vagra II was a world that Data hadn't heard from in years - it was a world he'd hoped, following Tasha's death, that he'd never have to hear about again. Yet again, however, Vagra II...and Armus...had reared their ugly heads.

"Helm, reverse course," he commanded, softly, glancing through Gallant as if he were staring off into the distance, distractedly, "Bearing 175 mark 004. Maximum warp. Engage when ready." He leaned over, flicking one of the switches on the captain's chair. "Captain Maddox, report to the bridge."

"_On my way,_" came the tinny reply.

The sound of a few more beeps filled the room, along with a shift in the glow on Lieutenant Chekov's console. Her expression darkened, and took on a look of shock. Possibly even grief.

"Commander Data," she mumbled, brokenly, "Starfleet Command has transmitted new orders. Ve are to resume course...salvage crews are proceeding to Starbase Thirty-Four. It vas...completely viped out."

Data paused, considering the results of such a loss. Starbase Thirty-Four was the site of a major shipyard. There must have been several Starfleet vessels in the sector, when it had been attacked. Whatever had struck had caught them completely off-guard. The yards and the defensive turrets must have had no time to respond at all. The station had said they were attacked by a Federation starship...but the transmission had been cut off before the late Andorian commander had been able to say which one.

Armus. Damn it, it had to be Armus. Data's shock and initial fear turned to something else...an emotion surging through him that he hadn't felt since Lore had given him his first fickle taste of emotion.

Anger. Darkness. A condition that a human might liken to seeing red.

If Armus had truly returned...then he had to be stopped. How, Data did not know...but Armus could not be allowed to repeat what he'd done to Tasha, ever again. Or, what he'd done now to Starbase Thirty-Four.

"Lieutenant Chekov," he commanded, glancing over towards Lieutenant Chekov, "Identify all starships that were assigned to the fleet yards, and on patrol in the immediate area."

She was still staring in disbelief at the console, and it took her a moment to register that the Commander was addressing her.

"Lieutenant Chekov?" Data repeated, concerned "Lieutenant, are you...able to function?"

Tatiyana jumped, slightly, and started to scroll through the _Rorschach_'s data banks, using her terminal. She breathed deeply, and wiped her eyes for a moment.

"No, Commander," she rasped, "I vill be fine. Accessing Federation database. Manifests for Starbase Thirty-Four are loading now." She paused, and there was silence on the bridge. The turbolift doors parted, following an awkward silence, and Captain Maddox stepped onto the bridge, glancing back and forth between his shaken officers. Normally, his stepping onto the deck would have been an instant "Keptin on the bridge!" barked out by Chekov, but she seemed distracted, perhaps even distraught.

"Did I miss something?" he muttered, to Data, who seemed to be staring past him, intently, at Lieutenant Chekov, waiting for some sort of response, or some manner of report. What could have shaken his officers so, Maddox didn't know.

"_USS Tokegawa_, Miranda-Class," Chekov spoke, her voice a slow, absent dirge, "_USS Hernandez_, Excelsior-Class. _USS Congo_, Miranda-Class. _USS Sutherland_, Nebula-Class. _USS Voltaire_, Excelsior-Class. _USS Barack, _Ambassador-Class_._" She wiped her eyes, reading off the end of the list, and then glanced back up at Data. "Starfleet reports all six vessels either destroyed or missing in action."

There was a long silence on the bridge, as Maddox stared back and forth between his senior staff.

"Would someone please tell me what the hell - ?" Maddox began, before Data stood from the command chair, and Bruce Maddox found himself interrupted.

"I will explain further," Data spoke, quickly, "Lieutenant Chekov, you have the bridge. Captain, would you join me in your Ready Room?"

* * *

When Maddox had heard the whole story, his face was set in a frown. Data had explained to him not only that an entire starbase had just been alledgedly blown out of the sky, but had also explained the reason for Vagra II's quarantine in the first place. Maddox had known that Data had been there, but hadn't made the connection between Data's "lost love", as Maddox had come to see Tasha Yar, and the Vagra II mission.

Data had described to him a creature who was damned near omnipotent. A creature who was capable of great power, and great cruelty. A creature who, after having been lied to and manipulated by Picard in order to save the life of Deanna Troi, had ever reason to hold a vendetta against the Federation. None of the six starships from Starbase Thirty-Four had actually entered the Vagra II sector...how had the quarantine been breached?

It was inconsequential, now. Starfleet was scrambling to have salvage crews go through the wreckage, to identify bits and pieces of each of the destroyed vessels. Construction ships were moving into place to build a makeshift outpost, until the starbase could be restored. But there was the problem of Armus, now...a problem that made Bruce Maddox very, very uneasy.

"All dead," he groaned, wiping sweat off his brow, "All three-thousand of them. Just like that."

"Affirmative," Data responded, nodding slightly. His voice was soft, his inflections like whispers. His emotion chip was engaged, and running in overdrive right now. There was a great deal running through the android's positronic brain - news of Starbase Thirty-Four had reopened a whole range of old wounds. "Of which approximately nine-hundred fifty-three were civilian personnel."

Maddox paused, and glanced out the viewport into the great black beyond. Federation reporters were already calling it the greatest single tragedy since Wolf 359. Klingon and Romulan governments were criticizing the Federation's ill defense of the sector, and the inability of Federation scanners to have pieced together the cause of the incident. Cardassians were arming, in the event that this was the opportunity they'd been looking for to seize a couple of extra star systems, for the glory of the Cardassian Order.

This was starting to change everything...and yet, it changed nothing at all. If they failed, Earth would be lost. Maddox knew that. If the loss of a single starbase was such a tragedy...he'd be damned if he was going to let anything happen to his home planet.

"Karn tells me that we're getting close to the source," Maddox explained, "He predicts three days before we arrive at the origin of the neutrinos. We have to travel through a nearby nebula, about six hours at Warp Five across, and we'll have to move through a pocket of gases called the - "

"The Crystal Gorge," Data interrupted, "A colloquial, spacer's term for an expanse of gas, intense radiation, and small particles of easily combustible material, presumably from a mining outpost that was destroyed in the area some years ago in an industrial accident."

"Right," Maddox sighed, "So...we're in for a fun ride."

Data paused, glancing out the window. Maddox leaned over the table, and watched him.

"Data? Is everything alright?"

"Yes, Captain," Data nodded, still glancing out the window, "I simply feel...dismayed. I suspect that had I remained on McKinley station, I might have found myself aboard another ship...one which might have responded to the Starbase's distress call in time."

"Regret," Maddox sighed, "Not surprising. Survivor guilt, I'd say."

"Survivor guilt," Data repeated, pausing and analyzing the term. "Elaborate."

"You lost someone you cared about to this...this Armus," Maddox explained, "You feel badly because you survived it, and they didn't. You were the one to walk away alive. You might feel as if you left them behind...or as if you let them down."

"I do not simply feel that way," Data explained, dissolving into babbling, "My actions at the time were inadequate. Lieutenant Yar took what was an obviously risky move towards a hostile creature, and I, as a superior officer, made no attempt to stop her advance until it was too late. I suspect that the force with which Armus struck her would have done negligible damage to my synthetic skin and positronic brain, but to her organic flesh and nerve clusters it did damage that is beyond my capacity to sufficiently measure.

"When Armus struck her, I had not anticipated that she had been harmed, and I squandered seconds with which I might have saved her life. Instead, I turned my weapon on Armus, and fired, to absolutely no effect. I failed to take proper spectographic and optical readings of the resonance burst produced when Armus attacked, readings which might have allowed Doctor Crusher to save Lieutenant Yar's life.

"Furthermore, when confronted with the entire situation in the first place, had I insisted on observing the creature at greater length before hand, we might have known that Armus could not be - "

"Data," Maddox interrupted, as the android's voice became shakier and shakier, "Data, you're crying again."

Data paused, and raised a hand to his face, touching the fingertips to the white-gold skin on his cheek. The skin was wet, a pair of tears having flicked down slowly while he'd spoken. He swallowed, cleared his throat, and wiped them away.

"I am sorry," Data spoke, "My behaviour is inappropriate, in the presence of a commanding officer, discussing a matter of such importance as - "

"Data," Maddox interrupted again, "Go back to your quarters. Get some rest. Relieve Tatiyana, as well. She looked pretty banged up, out there."

Data paused, but glanced back at the captain with a look of protest.

"Do you believe me to be...compromised, sir?"

"No," Maddox responded, earnestly, "But...I want you to take time off now so that you don't become compromised. Think of it as preventative maintenance."

Data paused, glancing up at Maddox with a half-smile.

"I suspect that Lieutenant Wright would not approve of such a comparison," Data explained, "In particular the comparison of human emotions to repairs to mechanic devices, which, by their very nature, are incapable of emotion at all."

Maddox leaned back in his chair, and crossed his arms. Smiling, he took a long, hard look out the window.

"We're all machines, Data," Maddox explained, "All of a different sort. Some of us are just more complicated than others." He motioned towards the door, still smiling. "Now, go. You can take over for me on night watch, Number One."

"Yes, Captain," Data responded, nodding, standing, and stepping out the ready room door.

When the door had whooshed shut, Maddox sighed to himself, remembering the day of the trial, and remembering the day he'd met his future First Officer, man-to-man, for the very first time.

"Remarkable," he mused, repeating the words of a year long past, "He is remarkable."


	9. IX: Orange

Ladies and gentlemen, I am a plagiarist. xD I joke, I joke. But, in all seriousness, before continuing, I must acknowledge a few sources included in this little story. The name "Pavel Nebula" was borrowed from the Bethseda Software game Star Trek: Encounters, and the song that Data and Tatiyana sing in the mess hall is titled "Korobushka," and is an old Russian folk tune. Yes, they're singing the Tetris song. That one.

Anyway...as usual, I have a few responses for folks who have reviewed the story. I've actually figured out, this time, how to send replies through , but I prefer this, the old-fashioned way. xD So...here we go.

**Miss Misty June - Thank you once more for your words of thanks and encouragement. If you're looking for Data-centric stuff (especially Data-Yar-centric stuff) I strongly recommend a story called Rollercoaster by Mistress Scribbles, which is BY FAR among the best fanfic stories that I have ever read. Rollercoaster is actually a story that helped me get back into TNG, and that got me writing about the Data-Yar pairing. It's a brilliant story, and if you read the first chapter of it (which is, in itself, pretty amazing) you'll probably be hooked. That's one I recommend, anyway. There's a whole slew of D/Y stuff on this site, and on the internet that I've read, and most of it is very, very well done. It's harder to come by than, say, Riker-Troi or Picard-Crusher, but the stuff that does exist is rather brilliant. **

**I must, of course, also make a shameless plug and recommend my other WIP story, "Fully Disfunctional". It's longer than this one (or at least it was before I posted this chapter!) but it's going to be on the back-burner until I get this one done. It's rated M, with good reason, though. No, nothing explicit...but the story's main antagonists are Q, and a ressurected, womanizing James Kirk, going under the pseudonym William Shatner, who ends up chased around the ship by phaser-rifle-wielding Data, Riker, and Picard. And no, it's not in any way, shape, or form to be taken seriously. At all. ^^**

**Calling-Alice - Maddox is a character I loved to hate when I watched "Measure of a Man." But...he, too, is only human. I think that, based on the episode's conclusion, that if he and Data had served together later, they probably would have ended up getting along rather well, becoming good chums, and looking back on the whole trial thing years later and laughing. Truth be told, he's become one of my favorite characters to write, in this little tale. But, then again, they all are. xD Picard and Data I thought was something that was important to capture, especially given the dynamic of their relationship in Nemesis. I guess, in a way, I wanted their closeness in this story to lead up to the whole Nemesis story arc, to give an extra meaning to his death in Picard's eyes that I feel wasn't sufficiently captured in the movie.**

So...yeah, that's my feedback for the loyal readers. xD If thou other readers wouldst be so kind as to revieweth, I very well might have some words for you, too!

* * *

_Orange_

Ensign Merrith Karn reviewed the astrometrics logs, and the readings from the advanced sensors that he, Maddox, and Wright had earlier configured within the _Rorschach_'s sensor pod. So far, the neutrino traces that lit the path to their quarry were scarce, and weak...but, with each new reading and each observation, Karn had been able to adapt the sensors to pick up progressively more, and more, of the neutrino emissions. Soon, the path would be as clear as if it were being spelled out for them in neon lights.

He wiped a bead of sweat off his brow, crossed his arms, and watched the flight path that he'd simulated. It would take them through the clouds of the nearby nebula, P-4731, a cloud of gases charted just barely years ago. The nebula was apt to disrupt their sensors, once they entered it - Karn would need to have their course plotted, clearly, before they arrived. And they would enter the gases in less than two hours.

On top of all of that, there was the matter of the Crystal Gorge. The place was a death trap, one that old spacers and pirates used to brave for the sake of bragging rights. It was treacherous for a small, maneuverable craft, and was even more treacherous for a ship as bulky and as slow to respond, compared to a fighter craft of course, as the _Rorschach._ He and Wright would have to reconfigure the shields, reinforce the structural integrity fields, perhaps even modify the main deflector to remit a repulsor beam, knocking the debris out of their path so that they might pass. Yes, that would probably -

There was a whoosh of air in the room as the door opened. Karn turned, and was greeted by the green-skinned Lissa Cohl, still in her black and blue uniform, stepping into the room, and moving over to the Deltan's side. In her hands was a hot, steaming cup of light brown liquid.

"Hot chocolate?" she smiled, holding it out to him.

Karn stepped over to her, and gladly accepted the cup, taking a small sip and grinning with delight.

"Just like the old days," he mused.

"Old days?" she asked, raising an eyebrow quizically, "What old days?"

"The Academy," he grinned, "You, me, the rest of the flight, staying up until three in the morning studying for a midterm. And, of course, hot chocolate."

She chuckled, lightly, and stepped over to console where he was working, running her fingers across the display of the Crystal Gorge.

"It's a beautiful sector," she sighed, "It's a damned shame that we're probably going to die there."

"Now, Lissa," Karn warned, turning to face her, at the console, "Don't talk like that. The captain's even gone and brought us a lucky charm from the _Enterprise_."

"Ah, yes," Lissa exclaimed, overdramatically, "First Officer Pinocchio. That makes me feel better."

Karn paused, and approached her, moving close to her, and taking one of her hands.

"Listen," Karn explained, "We'll track these neutrinos to their source, blow up whatever this thing is, and go home. And then we'll spend the next five years charting gaseous anomalies, wishing that we were back here, on the _Rorschach_, gallivanting across the cosmos and saving mankind."

"Mankind," she sneered, "Overrated lot, I say."

Karn just smiled back.

"But they do have entertainment value," he chuckled. She chuckled back, immediately catching the implication.

"Now, behave," Lissa laughed, "You took a vow at the academy, remember? Chastity? Keeping your distance from a sexually immature species? I'll be watching you, you rascal."

"Madame Pot," Karn countered, a humorous flare to his voice, "Stop calling me black. Or green, as the case may be."

Both of them chuckled a moment longer, until Karn sighed.

"Damn," he mused, "I'm glad you're different. Orion physiology, and all. Pheromone immunity. I'm glad I don't get to you. Because if you zoned out, gawked at my shiny bald head, or stared at my nethers every other second just like half the poor souls on this ship, I think I'd probably go insane."

"Seconded," Lissa agreed. She stepped towards the exit, smiling back at her old friend. "Don't you be up too late tonight," she scolded him.

"Yes, mother," Karn sighed, rolling his eyes.

* * *

Data had, for what seemed like the millionth time, recalled the events of the Vagra II mission, combing through them in painstaking detail, identifying each and every one of the flaws and indecisions on his part that had led to the death of Lieutenant Tasha Yar. He was sitting, alone, in his quarters. As he did not actually require sleep, his quarters were simply a small room with a desk, a master systems display through which he could monitor the ship's performance and access information through the computer library. The only other item of note in the room was a table and set of chairs, that he had requested in the rare chance that he would have human company while aboard. This did not seem like a likely possiblity, at the moment.

He paused his mental playback, at approximately the stage in the mission where Commander Riker requested passage to the shuttlecraft, and deactivated the memory engram, returning it to storage within his positronic brain. Captain Maddox had given him this time for "preventative maintenance" - ensuring that in the event that Data was confronted by the issue of Armus, or the Vagra II tragedy again, that he would have a cool head, and the self-control necessary to deal with it. It occured to Data that he was not using his time as Maddox would have wanted - he was only compounding a problem, making it worse.

Now he understood the burden of command, the one that had made Jean-Luc Picard such a very private man. To be in command meant that one had to set aside their own emotions, their own feelings, their own needs and wants in order to preserve their crew's. He had to be an example for the junior officers...he had to be able to make computations and decisions that would preserve the lives on this ship, and that would allow them to accomplish their mission. Anything else would be failure, on his part, as a Starfleet command-division officer. He glanced at his reflection in the window, specifically at the red uniform that he was wearing.

"Computer, run ethical self-diagnostic Data Tango-One."

He sighed deeply, and then twitched his head, running an ethical subroutine that he employed in times of severe emotional or moral turbulence, such as these.

In Data's mind, from Data's point of view, Tasha Yar materialized on the far side of the room. She was wearing the black-and-gold fatigue jumpsuit of a security officer, and her hair was just slightly longer than it had been at Vagra II. Data had attempted to extrapolate her appearance, and base the simulation on how Tasha herself would have appeared in life, had she survived. He glanced over at her, and swallowed nervously, flushing biochemical fluid through his mechanical body, cooling himself down.

"Tasha," he whispered, "I am uncertain as to how I should proceed."

She simply smiled and approached, glancing in astonishment at the uniform he wore.

"Data," she mused, "Well, you've sure come a long way, haven't you?"

"Elaborate," Data commanded.

"Command," she explained, "The last time we talked, Data, you were wearing gold. You were on the _Enterprise_. Come to think of it...that was years ago, wasn't it?"

"One year, three months, forty-seven minutes - "

"I thought so," she sighed, moving next to him, "Tell me what's happened."

"The _Enterprise_ has been destroyed," Data spoke, without pause. The simulated Tasha stumbled back a bit, shocked.

"Well, that explains a few things," she mused, dryly, "Like why it's so cramped in here."

"We are aboard the _Rorschach_," Data explained, "A Nebula-Class starship, of which I am first officer."

Tasha smiled.

"So...you're finally moving up," she chuckled. "I always knew you'd go places, someday."

"And yet I find myself so frequently conflicted," Data responded.

"Which is why you saw it fit to create an ethical self-diagnostic program," Tasha interrupted, placing a hand on his shoulder, "Me. To walk you through those conflicts."

"This is no simple conflict," Data explained, "When last I activated you, it was following Lore's manipulation of the Borg, and my complicity in the torture of Geordi LaForge."

Tasha rubbed her head a moment, looking a bit strained.

"Oh, I remember," she muttered, "That was a doozy. What about now?"

"I am confronted by a simular situation, but this time with proper capacity for emotion," Data explained, "Specifically, I am confronted by anger. An anger that is clouding my judgement."

Tasha moved over to the table, and motioned for Data to join her. Data stood, and walked across the room to where she was seated, taking his place across from her.

"Anger at who?" she asked.

"I am uncertain," Data explained, "Initially, based on the cause and effects of the emotion, I assumed I was angry at Armus."

"Data," 'Tasha' explained, smiling sadly, "You lost Tasha Yar on that mission. Someone you cared about. Someone a lot of people cared about. Most of them got that anger and that loss out seven years ago. You didn't have the capacity for that anger until you installed your emotion chip."

"How do you know about my emotion chip - ?" Data inquired, swiftly interrupted.

"I'm a self-diagnostic program," she chuckled, "I'd need a self-diagnostic myself if I weren't keeping an eye on you."

Data paused, but then continued his explanation.

"When I spoke with Captain Maddox, however," Data explained, "And in the three-point-two-six hours since, it has become apparent to me that my anger also appears to be...misdirected. Or, perhaps not. My anger, by a logical and analytic point of view, does not seem to be in error, although I cannot be certain."

"Who are you angry at, Data?" Tasha asked, taking one of his hands.

Data paused, glancing up at her with confusion on his face.

"I am angry at..." he whispered, "Me."

Tasha sighed, and smiled softly.

"Survivor guilt," she responded.

"Captain Maddox employed the same terms," Data explained, "He stated that he believed I required preventative maintenance."

"And instead," Tasha groaned, "You came back to your quarters, and started flogging yourself."

"Flogging?" Data inquired, tilting his head and arching an eyebrow.

"Never mind," Tasha snapped, "Listen...Data...listen very closely. You're right to have these emotions, and you're entitled to them. It's okay to feel. It's okay to cry."

"But - "

"Don't interrupt," she continued, cutting him off, "Data, you have a duty to this ship, and to this crew. What you feel is natural, given the circumstances. But you have to let go. You did everything you could have done, Data. And...if you didn't, then next time you won't make the same mistakes. As long as you learn from the past, it's not wasted."

"Even when the cost is immeasurable?" Data inquired, softly.

"Especially when," Tasha answered. "Data...breathe. Live. Learn. Grow. If Tasha were still alive, I don't think she'd be especially pleased with the way you've been beating yourself up over all of this. She knew what she signed up for, and she did what she considered to be her duty. I think she'd want you to do the same."

Data paused, and glanced at her from across the table, nodding his head in agreement.

"I understand," Data acknowledged.

"Good," Tasha smiled.

Data paused, taking one last long look at the simulation that he'd constructed, wishing for a moment that she were alive, that she were real. One of the most insufferable parts of being an android is that it would always be deeply seated and rooted in his positronic brain that he would know the difference. There was no substitute for losing someone you cared about.

"End self-diagnostic program," Data commanded. Tasha's image shimmered, and then disappeared from view. After a few seconds of silence, and reflection, Data moved to the far side of the room, picked up a PADD, and headed for the door.

"Computer, locate Lieutenant Chekov," he commanded.

"Lieutenant Chekov is in Mess Hall," the female voice responded, through the speakers in Data's quarters.

"Thank you," he remarked, before the doors whooshed apart. A they did, he stepped into the hall, disappearing into the corridor.

* * *

Data was surprised when he entered the mess hall, with the PADD with the tactical schematics for the _Rorschach_ still in hand, and heard the sound of upbeat, slavic music. The tune, however, was largely minor chords, and the tempo at which the song was several measures slower than the version of the song that Data had on file, within his positronic brain. He recognized the song immediately as an old, Russian folk song, and immediately tuned his ears to search for the source of the sound.

The room was largely silent. Several crewmen had come to the mess hall following learning of the Starbase Thirty-Four disaster, and many had their drinks in hand. Some where forlornly glancing out the viewports, some of them were deep in thought, some of them engaged in quiet conversation, and some, like Data, were watching the source of the music. On the far side of the room, seated on top of one of the tables, resting her feet on the chair below, was Lieutenant Tatiyana Chekov, her long hair untied. She was wearing civilian clothing, her shirt a bright, almost fluorescent orange.

In Lieutenant Chekov's hands was an instrument that Data recalled from Earth folklore as being a Russian folk guitar, better known as a balalayka. Its body was triangular in shape, and it possessed only three strings. It was of small size, and Tatiyana appeared to be playing it with great ease. As she played, she also sang, in her native tongue, the song of a young man and a dark-eyed girl in a rye field.

Her voice was soft, and light, but also with a great deal of power and presence. Data assumed from his observation that she had played the musical instrument, and sang accompaniment to it, for a good portion of her life. She did appeared, after all, to be quite well-versed and skilled in its use.

_"Oy polnym," _she sang, "P_olna m__оya korobushka__,_

_Yest' i sitets i parcha._

_Pozhaley, dusha-zaznobushka,_

_Molodetskogo plecha._"

As Data moved closer to her, attempting to better observe the music and perhaps identify the inconsistencies in the tempo, noticed a familiar face seated at one of the tables he passed. It was a man clutching his head in his hands, with four or five empty glasses and a bottle that looked to have once housed a substance _other_ than synthehol. The label indicated a sort of old Earth gin, probably alcoholic. Data recognized, when the man raised his head for a moment, the face of Lieutenant Jace Wright.

"Two hours," Wright moaned, "Two hours...that she's been singing the same...damn...song."

Data arched an eyebrow, puzzled.

"Do you not approve?" he inquired.

"I'd approve if I knew what she was singing," Wright groaned, wiping sweat from his brow, "Though...really not much to sing about right now, is there? You heard about the...no, of course you heard. You were on the bridge. Right."

"If you are displeased with the lyrics," Data continued, "Why have you not left the mess hall?"

Wright paused, as if Data had just given him a revelation of godly proportions. He glanced up, a goofy smile on his face.

"Right..." he whispered, "Right! I remember now! I was supposed to go check that plasma manifold...right. Stupid ship...stupid machines! They're all against me, all out to get me, I tell you...but you know, I'll bet. You probably know better than anyone! You're in league with them, I bet! You know!"

Data paused, observing Wright's symptoms, and then forming his own diagnosis.

"Lieutenant Wright," Data snapped, "Report to Sickbay and have Ensign Cohl carry out full alcohol decontamination protocols. Expect a formal reprimand, doubly so if you do not report to the Ensign immediately."

Wright glowered up at him, stood from the table, and slowly staggered his way out of the lounge, mumbling something along the way about a "yellow-eyed bastard". Data allowed the comment to simply deal a glancing blow, and let it slide. Once Wright had left the room, and Data was confident that the situation had been dealt with, he approached the musician, Tatiyana Chekov.

_"Vyydu, vyydu v rozh' vysokuyu,_

_Tam do nochki pogozhu,_

_Kak zavizhu chernookuyu,_

_Vse tovary razlozhu."_

Despite the lively nature of the song, the tempo was still very slow, and Tatiyana's face was still bent in a frown. Data approached, and she still didn't look up. She appeared to be absorbed in the music, and observed in the song. Data paused, and observed her a while, as for the next two minutes, roughly, she completed the ballad, and then set down the instrument, looking as if she were just about to leave the hall. When she turned, and spotted the Lieutenant Commander standing before her, she jumped slightly, and then smiled.

"Lieutenant Commander Data," she breathed, "I...I vas not expecting to see you in the mess, sir. Do not be offended...but I vasn't sure vhether you even had to eat or not."

"I do not, in the same sense that you do," Data explained, "Though I do require certain nutrients, biochemicals, to maintain my neural net and the functioning of my limbs and extremities. I do, however, frequent places like lounges and mess halls in an effort to better understand and relate to their occupants."

Lieutenant Chekov smiled, and nodded, her face still rather dark. Data noticed that she'd appeared thusly since the news had reached the ship of Starbase Thirty-Four's destruction. There must have been some connection, some link. He was, however, uncertain of its nature.

"_Yzumitelno_," Data spoke, motioning towards her instrument, complimenting her in Russian on her playing. The Lieutenant glanced up at him, smiled slightly, and sighed.

"_Spazeebo_," she responded, thanking him for his words, but continued on her way out of the lounge. Curiosity struck Data, and he found himself anxious to attempt something...different.

"Lieutenant Chekov," Data called to her, before she'd passed so much as two tables, "A moment, please?"

The Lieutenant paused, turned, and glanced at him with slight confusion. Data was reaching for the grounded instrument. She approached him, standing all of three feet away from him as he picked it up from the ground. She suspected for a moment that he was about to hand it to her - she had, after all, forgotten it. What he did, however, surprised her. He lifted it, and held it as if he were about to play.

"With your permission, Lieutenant?" Data asked.

Tatiyana made an almost giddy smile, took a seat at a nearby table, and nodded.

"Yes, Commander," she grinned, "I vould be honored."

Data, without a moment's hesitation, began to strum the strings of the guitar-like instrument. Immediately, Tatiyana Chekov recognized the same tune she'd been playing just moments ago, but upbeat, fast, and alive. Despite herself, she found a smile breaking out, as this song had always, in the past, managed to produce. Within seconds, she found herself lightly tapping her foot along. Data was playing the instrument as if he'd played it his whole life, and the whole lounge glanced over, in astoundment.

Data, too, sang the song that Tatiyana had sung, but did so as his positronic brain took the Russian lyrics, translating them to their closest English equivalent.

"_Oy, my crate is so full,_

_I've got chintz and brocade._

_Take pity, oh sweety,_

_Of this lad's shoulder._

"_I will, I will go out into the tall rye,_

_I will wait there till the night comes,_

_Once I see the dark-eyed lass,_

_I will showcase all my goods._"

While the rest of the mess hall was watching the scene with surprise, and their own sort of amusement, Tatiyana found herself lost in memories, stuck in another time by the sound of the instrument. The lively, jovial pace at which Data seemed to be playing the tune reminded her of the way that her grandfather had played, when she would on the floor, and watch him as he sat on his old, rocking chair, with the balalayka in hand, playing for her night, after night, after night.

She had been just a child, then, but had always found the tune of the song enrapturing. Despite herself, she also found that Data's voice reminded her of her grandfather's, though it would have been a cold day in hell before Piotr Chekov would have sang the song in any tongue but Russian.

"_I paid no small price myself,_

_So don't bargain or be stingy,_

_Bring your scarlet lips to me,_

_Sit closer to this fine lad._

"_The foggy night has already come,_

_The daring lad is awaiting,_

_Hark, it's her! The desired one has come,_

_The merchant is selling his goods._"

Tatiyana didn't feel as if she were aboard the _Rorschach_, listening to Lieutenant Commander Data play an old folk tune. The sound of the words made the blood in her veins course faster, her heart beat stronger. She was home, in mother Russia, in a fashion that even a holodeck had never previously been able to manage. Much of the mess hall was now clapping along to the tune, and Data was not only playing, and singing, but smiling, as well. He was behaving like a performer, emulating the form and the mood of a musician to perfection.

Data watched Tatiyana, more than the rest of the crowd, and was pleased to note that the dark mood which seemed to have overwhelmed her earlier seemed, for the most part, to have faded away. She was smiling, tapping her foot, enjoying the music as the rest of the lounge seemed to be. Data did not permit himself to be distracted by observations, and did not perform any additional or unnecessary calculations or computations on either manner. He continued playing the song, intent on finishing strong.

"_Katya is haggling with care,_

_She is afraid to pay too much,_

_A lad is kissing his lass,_

_Asking her to raise the price._

"_Only the deep night knows,_

_What they agreed upon._

_Straighten up now, oh tall rye,_

_And keep their secret scrupulously!_

"_Oy, my crate is so light,_

_The strap is no longer cutting into my shoulders!_

_And all my lass took_

_Was one turquoise ring._"

At the song's conclusion, Data strummed the instrument one final time, and then set it down. The mess hall applauded, strongly, some of the officers in the back even rising up from their chairs to stand as they clapped. Data nodded his head, humbly, and picked up the instrument again, carrying it over to the table where Tatiyana sat. He set it down, in front of her, and took a place at the chair across from her.

"I hope that you do not believe that I was...showing off," Data spoke, quickly apologizing for having stolen the show.

"Not at all, Mister Data," Chekov smiled, picking up her glass and taking a drink of something clear, "Not at all."

She paused, smiling contently, and glancing up at her superior officer.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"I am uncertain as to what you are thanking me for," Data inquired, arching an eyebrow. "Can you be more specific?"

"That song," Chekov sighed, "My grandfather used to sing it to me, vhen I vas a child."

Data paused, recalling from his own experience the close bond that family had possessed aboard the _Enterprise_. There was a special bond between people of the same origins, the same blood. Kinship. It had always fascinated, him, and while he'd had some opportunity to observe it in the past, it had never really ceased to fascinate him.

"For what purpose?" Data inquired.

"He just did," Tatiyana shrugged, "He sang it a lot. He used to sing a lot of old war songs, too."

Data paused, accessing his memory files on Tatiyana Chekov, and on her lineage as it was recorded in Starfleet Command's database. After a few seconds, he twitched, and turned back to face her.

"That would be unsurprising," he explained, "According to records, the majority of your extended family is in the employ, in one form or another, of military or paramilitary organizations. Your direct relatives, going back up to three previous generations, have taken part in various conflicts of significance - the Cardassian War, the Romulan invasion of Narendra III, and the Khitomer Accord, to list but a few examples. Your great-grandfather, Commander Pavel Andreivich Chekov, was in his day a most decorated Starfleet officer, and was said to have been among the best weapons officers in Starfleet. Comparisons between yourself and your great-grandfather are in that regard justified, based on your Academy test scores and performance."

Tatiyana's face again darkened slightly, and she glanced away.

"But they aren't," she sighed, "Pavel Andreiwich Chekov vas a great man. By my age, he vas serwing on the Enterprise, with keptin James Kirk. He vas a decorated nawigator, and had seen...vell, he had seen action. I'm still just vaiting. Just vaiting for my turn, I guess."

She slammed her fist down onto the table, glancing up angrily at her superior.

"Vas there nothing ve could have done?" she snapped, "Vhy vould Starfleet Command order us to continue our mission? Ve could have returned to the Starbase, stopped whoever had - "

"Need I remind you, Lieutenant," Data explained, "But by the time we reversed course, the Starbase and its defense fleet had already been destroyed."

"Ve are a Nebula-class battlecruiser!" she snapped, throwing her arms up in the air, "Ve could have done something! Pursued them! Stopped them! How do ve know they von't do it all over again, somevhere else?"

"We are a vessel of science," Data explained, "Only comparable in shields and armament to a battlecruiser. The _USS Sutherland_ was also a Nebula-Class vessel, assigned to the Starbase for its defense. I knew her Captain, myself. If Christopher Hobbes had been incapable of holding the line against Armus - "

Data cut himself off promptly, realizing that he had said too much. He swallowed nervously, and continued, attempting to recover.

"If Christopher Hobbes had been incapable of defending the Starbase, then it is unlikely that our return would have - "

"Armus?" Tatiyana asked, raising an eyebrow, staring at him curiously, "Vhat is Armus? The enemy ship?"

Data paused. The files on the Vagra II mission were not classified, but they were not especially well-circulated, either. Few had heard of the quarantine of this specific sector, because few had ever really travelled to it in the first place.

"Armus is a malevolent entity," Data explained, "A creature of great power, marooned on Vagra II. I suspect if the system's quarantine was breached that Armus has escaped." He paused, and then continued again, passing the PADD he'd brought to the mess hall over to Tatiyana. "We should focus on our task at hand. Our mission is of greater importance, if indeed the anomaly we are following poses a threat to Earth. Analyze the shield configuration of the _Rorschach_, and advise me if you believe that any other configuration would be an improvement on the theories that Mister Karn and Captain Maddox have already - "

"How do you know of this...Armus?" Chekov asked.

Data paused, and then after a moment responded. "I was on the Away Team that encountered him. A comrade of mine was killed by the creature. I assure you, his quarantine was justified."

Before Data had a chance to say any more on the matter, his commbadge trilled. He tapped it in response, quickly.

"_Maddox to Data_," the commbadge relayed.

"This is Data," the android responded.

"_Sorry to cut your break short, but I need you and Lieutenant Chekov on the bridge," Maddox explained, "We're approaching the nebula._"

The two officers glanced at each other, and then stood, Data first, both of them moving towards the door to the corridor.

"I have Lieutenant Chekov," Data responded quickly, "We will arrive shortly."

* * *

When they stepped onto the bridge, the first thing that struck Data was the orange glow coming from the main viewscreen. The light from the nebula was almost blinding, but its orange haze was distinct, fascinating in its own way. Data glanced at the screen, then around the bridge. Maddox was in the command chair, and Gallant was at flight control. Data made his way towards the Ops station, and seated himself. Tatiyana, however, stood at the entrance to the bridge for a moment, watching the anomaly outside as if looking at a page out of a storybook. She was still clothed in her civilian fatigues, including the shirt that seemed, at the moment, to be as blazing orange as the clouds outside.

"_Yzumitelno_..." she whispered, "Marvellous..."

Maddox turned from the chair, glancing up at her with a puzzled look on his face.

"Lieutenant?" he asked, "Is everything alright?"

"I have seen this before," she whispered, in happy surprise.

Data paused, and began to scan the region. "According to landmarks, this is the gaseous anomaly designated nebula P-4731, also known as the - "

"The Pavel Nebula," Chekov smiled. "Named for my great-grandfather." Data and Maddox both glanced up at her in surprise, though Data's glance was more one of fascination than actual surprise. She beamed proudly, soaking up both of the stares and feeling that infamous Chekov pride swelling up. "It vos, after all, charted and named by a Russian surwey team."

Maddox rolled his eyes. He'd gotten used long ago to the Lieutenant's bragging, and had somewhat learned by now to filter it out.

"Actually," Data interrupted, "Only the second officer on the voyage of the _USS Minsk_ was Russian, despite the fact that the vessel that charted this sector was, coincidentally, named for a geographic location in continental Russia. The remainder of the human crew were of North American, Germanic, Western European, Japanese, and East Indian, in that order exactly, with the number of Russian officers between those of Western European and - "

"We get the idea, Mister Data," Maddox snapped, cutting the android off before he completely ruined Lieutenant Chekov's afternoon. Chekov, however, didn't seem fazed. She merely glanced at Data with a look of surprise, disbelief, and then realization.

"Wery strange," she muttered, "I could have svorn it vos a Russian surwey ship. Oh, vell." She glanced down at the tactical display, and continued on with her duties.

Data glanced up from his console, towards the Captain, a look of confusion on his face.

"Captain," he explained, "Sensors appear to be non-functional at longer ranges within the confines of the Pavel Nebula."

"Not surprising," Maddox countered, "That's why I had Mister Karn plot the course that Gallant will follow, as we move into the anomaly, well in advance."

Data paused, glancing over at Tatiyana's station, then back at Maddox.

"I advise raising shields," Data suggested, "Without long-range sensors, we will not be able to detect an approaching enemy vessel."

Maddox was about to open his mouth to respond when Tatiyana voice her opinion from across the bridge.

"I agree, keptin," she piped up, "Ve should raise shields."

Maddox threw up his hands in mock surrender.

"Fine! Raise shields!" he sighed, glancing over amusedly at Data. "Mister Data, with you and Tatiyana both on the bridge, I'm beginning to wonder whether the _Rorschach_ even needs me around at all anymore."

Data paused, and glanced back up at the Captain.

"According to regulations, it does," Data stated, "As Captain, you are the only one capable of triggering the _Rorschach_'s auto-destruct sequence, and only your specified prefix codes allow the ship to be disabled externally. New protocols also grant that you are the sole officer capable of carrying out this vessel's saucer separation function. You are, thus, of great importance even by your presence alone."

Maddox rolled his eyes, and then turned back towards the glowing clouds before them. He sighed, pulled down at his blue uniform front, and then glanced downward at Gallant's station, where the young man's hands were integrated with wires, LCARS panels, and circuitry halfway up his metallic forearm.

"Mister Gallant," he commanded, "Take us in, Warp Five. Nice and easy."

"Warp five, sir," Gallant confirmed. He tensed, slightly, as if exerting the force of the engines on the ship, himself, and then relaxed as the vessel began to accelerate. "Now entering the Pavel Nebula."

_So it begins,_ Maddox thought to himself, and then slowly started to tap at the side of his chair.


	10. X: Yellow

_Yellow_

Several hours passed on the bridge of the _USS Rorschach_ in silence. The first leg of the journey through the Pavel Nebula was nothing if not uneventful. The mood on the bridge, however, was tense - each of the crew on hand knew what was at stake, knew that they were alone, out here, and knew that they were flying blind, with their long-range sensors virtually useless within the nebula's confines. Gallant was keeping a firm hand on the helm - figuratively speaking, since his hands were plunged into the console itself, interfacing with the _Rorschach_'s flight control systems directly. Tatiyana kept a close eye on her sensors, as if expecting an enemy target to plunge into the nebula and strike at them at any moment.

Maddox's breaths were somewhat deeper than normal, and every few minutes he'd wipe a bead of sweat off his brow. This was smooth sailing, at least compared to how treacherous the Crystal Gorge was bound to be, and yet Maddox found himself overcome with dread. All they had to fly by right now was the flight path that he'd worked out with Karn before they'd entered the nebula. If they missed their exit, even by the slightest amount...they'd be trapped in here for days. By the time they escaped, the neutrino trail would be cold, and Earth would be destroyed.

_No pressure_, he thought to himself with a dry smile.

Lieutenant Commander Data, of course, still seated at the Ops station, was the paragon of calm, and of composure. He watched his console steadily, keying up various sensor displays, in thermal, visual, and every other spectrum he could think of, on both the short-range and mid-range sensor systems.

There.

It wasn't a significant pattern of data at first, but the android noticed that bearing 027 mark 029, to starboard, there was what looked like a displacement of gases consistent with ripples. He switched from thermal spectrum to a sensor sweep to detect ion trails, which would have been left by impulse drives. Here, he noticed more of the ripples, forming a wake. The wake led forward, and seemed to have dissipated significantly. From his observations, Data estimated that whatever else was in the nebula was about another forty seconds at Warp Five ahead. Cross-referencing the readings with his knowledge of the various types of impulse drives employed on Federation starships, the manufacture of the vessel that had produced the wake was probably Starfleet in origin, sometime in the late 23rd century. This would have proven it either a Miranda-Class, Excelsior-Class, or some other, contemporary, class of vessel.

Within the span of a few seconds, Data had double-checked and triple-checked his readings, with the same consistent result. There was another ship, most likely a Federation ship from the late 23rd century, which appeared to have entered the nebula before they had, and most likely from another point of origin.

"Captain Maddox," Data called out, breaking the reverie on the bridge. Maddox jumped a little, in surprise, but then straightened himself and relaxed in his chair.

"Yes, MIster Data?" he responded.

"I am picking up the ion trail of a Federation starship in this sector. I suggest we drop out of warp to investigate."

Maddox paused, knowing the danger of veering off-course. With their long-range navigation instruments useless, they could be lost if they moved too far from their current flight path.

"Lieutenant Chekov," he commanded, glancing over at Tatiyana, "Launch a series of Class-V navigational probes. I want us to be able to find our way back here."

"Aye, keptin," Tatiyana responded, tapping in the command into her console. There was a beeping sound, and on the main viewer a series of bright red lights could be seen, having fired from the main torpedo launcher in the sensor/weapons pod. "Probes are avay, keptin."

Maddox paused, and stood from his seat. He approached Data's console, crouched down, and glanced over the readings that Data had taken, which almost precisely pinpointed the location of the ship.

"How long until we're in range?" he asked.

"We will enter sensor range in nine seconds," Data responded.

Maddox glanced over immediately at Ensign Gallant, his face tight in a frown. He had a bad feeling, in the pit of his stomach, about all of this.

"Drop out of warp," he commanded, "Plot an intercept course, one-quarter impulse."

"Aye, sir," Gallant responded. He pushed against the console, again as if exerting the force of the maneuvering thrusters and disengaging the engines with his own two hands, and then relaxed. He glanced over at the captian, as the rest of the bridge crew felt the ship slow to a crawl. "One-quarter impulse, sir."

Data glanced up at Maddox, who was still standing next to him, with a concerned look on his face.

"Captain," Data suggested, "The transmission received from Starbase Thirty-Four stated that they were attacked by a Federation starship. At our last contact with Starfleet Command, there was no indication that any Federation vessels, other than the _Rorschach_, had been assigned to the Pavel Nebula nor any of the outlying areas. I recommend we proceed with caution."

Maddox considered the possiblities, and then glanced back at his First Officer.

"How big would you say she is, Data?" he asked.

"Engine patterns are consistent with a Starfleet Miranda-Class or Excelsior-Class vessel, though the projected mass of the ship matches the Miranda-Class more closely," Data answered.

Maddox considered carefully the possibilities. A Miranda-Class starship would have been too small to have destroyed a Starbase, to say nothing of an entire fleet. A Miranda was a light cruiser, and wouldn't have been able to put a dent in the Starbase's hull before the automatic pulse phaser cannons would have come online, and blown her out of the sky. No, this wasn't their mystery attacker.

But they had no way of knowing that this ship was the only one out here. And if there were others...

"Yellow Alert, Lieutenant Chekov," Maddox snapped.

"Aye, keptin," Tatiyana responded, raising the _Rorschach_'s shields, and running minimal power to her weapons systems, just bringing them far enough online that they'd be primed if they ran into trouble.

Maddox watched the main viewscreen, the orange clouds parting as they made their way through. It seemed that the nebula, here, was less dense, and they had a slightly clearer field of vision.

"Now entering sensor range," Gallant called out. Maddox returned to the command chair, his eyes still glued to the viewscreen.

"Are we in visual range?" Maddox asked.

"Aye," Gallant responded.

"Then get her onscreen. Lieutenant Chekov, I want you to open a channel as soon as we're in communications range," Maddox commanded.

Data's hands were still flicking to and fro across the front of the Ops console, and his face became a mask of confusion as the new sensor readings began to confirm the ship's identity. Simultaneously, the viewscreen flickered, and the image of an old Constitution-class saucer section with two nacelles grafted rather haphazardly to her sides came into focus. There were eight phaser cannons, a pair on the port and starboard sides of the ventral, and of the dorsal sides of the craft. Each of the pairs had one cannon pointing forward, and one reversed. Maddox didn't recognize the older ship class, but Data, glancing up from the computer readout, would have recognized her instantly, even if he hadn't just recovered the information from her transponder.

"The starship on the viewscreen, Captain, is a Chekhov-class medium cruiser, a starship used for border patrol, and perimeter defense," Data explained.

As was to be expected, Tatiyana's face lit right up.

"Chekov-class!" she exclaimed, smiling, "Named for my great-grandfather himself. Another Russian inwention!"

"Inaccurate, Lieutenant," Data corrected, "While the design team for the class was largely made up of Engineers from Russia and other slavic regions, the specifications on the Chekhov class list a silent 'H' between the 'K' and 'O', indicating that the ship was rather named for the famed medical practitioner and playwright Anton Chekhov, an author who, in the late nineteenth and early twentieth-centuries, was considered to be among the greatest authors of short stories to have ever - "

"Mister Data, I really don't think now's the time," Maddox interrupted. "Tell us about this ship, please."

"The vessel is registered as the _USS Soyuz_," Data explained, "Her tactical strengths are her numerous phaser cannons, maneuverability, and small attack profile. Disadvantages include weak shield strength, sub-standard hull integrity, and a non-redundant relay system connected to both the ship's computer core and the main power grid."

"Keptin," Tatiyana interrupted, "I am unable to reach the _Soyuz._ They are not responding to our hails, but they appear to be transmitting a signal on their emergency beacon. Audio only."

Maddox paused, aware of the implications. As they neared the _Soyuz_, he could see why the signal was being transmitted - one of the ship's nacelles had been shorn almost completely off, and was hemorrhaging plasma. The remainder of the ship's hull was littered with scorches and hull breaches, with one particularly nasty-looking hold, probably left by a high-impact torpedo or other projectile, having cut right through the saucer section of the ship, itself. The lights were off, and the sensor dome at the rear of the ship looked like it had been blown right to shards. Whatever had happened to the _Soyuz_, out here, it hadn't been pleasant, and it hadn't been friendly.

"Let's hear it," Maddox sighed, his voice full of dread.

After a moment, Tatiyana brought up the signal she was receiving, and put it on the bridge speakers.

" - to all Federation vessels in range. We are under attack by an unidentified starship. Our shields are down, and our structural integrity has been compromised. We are at grid 332 within nebula P-4731, requesting immediate assistance!" The message paused, and then began to loop, playing back right from the start. "This is the _USS Soyuz, _transmitting to all Federation vessels in range. We are under attack by an unidentified starship..."

"Cut the channel," Maddox snapped, his eyes widening slightly. "Divert auxiliary power to sensor systems. I don't want whatever's out there to catch us off-guard."

Data made the necessary adjustment from his station, and glanced back up at Maddox.

"Sensors are not detecting any other vessel in the area," Data explained, "However, I am detecting a second ion trail, which is set on a course 054 mark 010, moving away from the wreck of the _Soyuz_." Data paused, scanning the _Soyuz_ one more time. "The _Soyuz _is derelict. Life support is off-line, her core was ejected some time ago. No life-signs detected."

The bridge crew was silent, for a moment, and Maddox considered their next move. If they followed the enemy ship, it might divert them from their course. But if they continued, ignoring the ion trail, then it was possible that whatever had attacked the _Soyuz_ would ambush them further into the nebula, where it was denser...where they would be unable to detect it. They'd also be leaving a potential threat out, in this sector. Either way...it was too big a risk to proceed without at least finding the enemy ship first.

"Follow the ion trail, Mister Gallant," Maddox commanded, "Full impulse. Lieutenant Chekov, stand down yellow alert, and engage red alert. Arm phasers and photon torpedoes."

"Aye, Captain," Gallant responded.

"Aye, keptin," echoed Tatiyana.

Maddox watched on the main viewer as the _Rorschach_ accelerated, moving into the denser and denser pockets of the cloud, veering past the _Soyuz_ into the orange abyss. Clouds parted before them as they moved, revealing the wake of a large vessel. They followed into it, like into a tunnel, Maddox almost holding his breath as they did so. Whatever had destroyed the _Soyuz _was out here, in front of them. The wake was getting narrower, and narrower - soon, they'd surely be right on top of their quarry. It was then, to Maddox's surprised, that he noticed that the 'tunnel' - the wake - came to a dead end stop, coming closer and closer.

"Tell me what I'm looking at, Mister Data," Maddox snapped, anxiously.

"Uncertain," Data explained, turning to face him. "The ion trail ends here, but the vessel cannot be cloaked, as the gases within the nebula would prevent a cloak from providing proper cover. I suspect that the vessel either used a tractor beam or decompression from a shuttlebay in order to move the ship out of our flight path."

Maddox frowned. It had been a set-up. Whoever had taken off in this direction had seen them coming, and had done this with the specific intent of catching them in a snare.

"We walked right into it," Maddox whispered. Tatiyana glanced up, worriedly. "Data, search for another ion trail."

Data paused, glancing down at his terminal.

"The clouds in this region have disabled our mid-range sensors, along with long-range sensors," Data explained, "I am unable to pinpoint any other ion trails in this sector."

Maddox's eyes widened. The other ship was out there, hidden in the gases of the Pavel Nebula, and they had absolutely no means of finding it. They'd walked right into a trap, and were firmly boxed in.

"Do we have any sensor readings at all, Data?" Maddox asked.

"Only along the wake we just followed, along with some readings from our Class-V probes," Data explained. As if in response to his words, Tatiyana's console began to trill and shriek.

"Keptin!" she cried, "I have lost contact vith the first probe. Attempting to boost signal to the other two to compensate - " She paused, as beeping from the console interrupted her once more. She tapped the display in front of her, loading data from the second probe. She glanced up in alarm, towards Maddox. "Keptin, ve have lost contact vith the second probe!"

Maddox's eyes widened. If the navigational beacons they'd dropped would be lost, they'd be blind in the nebula, unable to complete their mission.

"Full reverse!" he snapped, "Gallant, get us back to the _Soyuz!"_

"Keptin," Tatiyana whispered, faintly, detecting his distress, "I regret to inform you, but...ve just lost the last Class-V probe."

Maddox slammed his fist down on the command chair, frustration overwhelming him. Their enemy had lured them out, for the sake of destroying the navigational beacons. Trapping them like rats.

"Sir?" Gallant stammered, "Shall we continue present course - ?"

"Yes!" Maddox snapped, angrily, "Back to the _Soyuz_! Full impulse! Engage, now!"

After several seconds, they moved back into the wider stretch of the wake, and the pocket of sparse gases where the _Soyuz_ lay came back into focus. Data double-checked, and triple-checked his readings.

"No other vessels detected in the immediate vicinity," he explained.

"She's out there..." Maddox whispered, "And she's a smart girl, whoever she is."

"Again, sir," Data pondered, raising an eyebrow, "Your tendency to attribute feminine gender to objects which are clearly not organic, or remniscient in any way of organic beings, fascinates me. As a point of curiosity, by what means would one distinguish the sexuality of a vessel similar to the - "

"Shut up, or shut down!" Maddox hissed, seething at having been caught in such a simple trap.

Data arched an eyebrow, in surprise. "I shall endeavor to 'shut up', Captain," Data responded.

"All hands to battle stations," Maddox commanded, having opened a ship-wide broadcast, "Repeat, all hands to battle stations."

There was silence once more on the bridge, and Maddox watched the clouds ahead of them.

"Data, can you use any of our reserve power, from something like the warp reactor or tractor beams, to boost the efficiency of the sensors?"

Data simply stared blankly ahead.

"Data?" Maddox repeated, "Mister Data, are you listening?"

Again, Data neglected to respond.

"Mister Data!" Maddox roared, getting more flustered by the minute, "Damnit, answer me!"

Data turned, confused, with an eyebrow arched in his usual, distinctive manner.

"Your orders are in conflict, Captain," Data explained, "While you are ordering me to respond, you had just explicitly ordered me to cease responding, and indicated that the alternative was that I would be deactivated. Am I to assume that you belay your previous - ?"

"Yes, yes, yes!" Maddox snapped, "But can you do it?"

Data paused, squinting a moment in thought.

"No," he explained, "However, theoretically, we could fire another burst of Class-V probes from the weapons pod. Once deployed, we could use our subspace transmitter to communicate with each of the probes by means of pulses, which when received, the probes would transmit back."

"Like in a tachyon detection grid?" Maddox pondered.

"No," Data explained, "The end result would bear more similarity to the radar systems employed by Earth naval vessels in the mid-to-late twentieth century."

Maddox smiled, and nodded. "I knew there was a reason we brought you along," he grinned, "Tatiyana, fire probes. Data, start transmitting as soon as the probes are in position."

"Probes away, keptin," Tatiyana answered.

"Probes will be in position in an estimated fifteen-point-four seconds, sir," Data observed.

Maddox paused, waiting for those fifteen-point-four seconds to end. They were among the longest seconds he'd endured in his life. After an awkward wait, Data's console began to flicker, and beep, and the android leaned down, keying in confirmation.

"Captain," he called out, "The probes are transmitting sensor data. No other vessels detected in the area."

"Fire out a pulse every five seconds," Maddox snapped, "Keep me apprised - "

"No need, sir," Data corrected, "The results of the second pulse have just returned. There does appear to be a large object, bearing 063 mark 119."

Maddox stood from the chair, moving closer to the viewscreen.

"Do we have a visual yet?" he asked.

"They are leaving a dense pocket of gas," Data explained, "Visual will be ineffective until after they have entered weapons range."

This left Maddox with a further predicament. They knew there was something out here, something hostile, but they had no way of identifying the vessel that was now approaching their position. He paused for a moment, and turned to Gallant.

"Back us away," he commanded Gallant, "And, Tatiyana, have a spread of torpedoes ready, maximum yield."

"Aye, keptin," Chekov responded, firing up the _Rorschach_'s targeting computers, and alerting the torpedo control rooms. Once finished, she glanced up at Maddox, anxiously. "Keptin, wessel is moving into veapons range. Do you vant me to fire?"

"Only if we get a clear shot," Maddox snapped, "Wait for my signal..."

They watched as a large, dark form came into view, still mostly hidden behind the gases. Maddox could see two lights, red lights, as the vessel approached, and raised a hand, ready to signal Chekov as soon as the starship came into range.

"Ten-thousand kilometers," Data spoke, advising the bridge crew of the ship's approach, "Nine-thousand...eight-thousand...seven-thousand...the vessel has entered weapons range."

Just as Maddox was about to give the order, the craft cleared the last of the orange gas clouds, revealing the profile of a Starfleet Nebula-Class starship. Just as he flinched, about to bring down his arm and give the order, he stopped himself and glanced over Tatiyana with madness in his eyes.

"Wait!" he called out, "Not yet! Don't fire yet!" He glanced back at the ship, and then over at his First Officer. "Data," he asked, "What ship is that?"

Data paused, gathering sensor data on the incoming craft. He stopped short, glancing up at Maddox, puzzlement on his face.

"The approaching starship is registered as the _USS Sutherland_," he spoke, rather quietly. "They do not appear to have suffered any significant damage."

"The _Sutherland..._" Maddox whispered, trying to recall the events of the last few hours, "Wasn't _Sutherland_ one of the ships reported lost at Starbase Thirty-Four?"

Data nodded, appearing slightly uneasy.

"It was, sir," Data muttered, softly, "It was the largest and most powerful vessel of the fleet assigned to that starbase's defense."

Maddox paused, watching the ship approach on the main viewer.

"Have they powered their weapons?" he asked, glancing over at Tatiyana.

"Negative," she responded, watching her console carefully, "But she has shields raised. And..." Her console started to flicker and beep, and she glanced up at the Captain with uncertainty in her voice. "Keptin...Lieutenant Commander Hobbes is hailing us. He says that it is urgent, keptin."

Maddox paused, glancing over at Data.

"Recommendations, Number One?"

Data paused, glancing over at Maddox, and twitching as he computed all of the different possibilities, outcomes, and results. After he felt sufficiently ready to respond, he did so.

"The _Sutherland_'s last orders were to locate a scoutship that entered the Vagra sector," Data explained, "And, while she was reported lost, analysis of the debris from the starbase has not been completed yet."

Maddox sat back down in the chair and leaned back. He frowned, and considered the implications of Data's observations.

"Captain," Data reminded him, "The starbase was destroyed by a Federation starship. A Nebula-Class starship with a full weapons pod would have possessed sufficient armament to destroy the base, especially if the starbase had been caught by surprise."

Maddox paused, watching the ship draw nearer and nearer. He glanced over at Tatiyana, and sighed.

"Put them through," he ordered, "But keep a close eye on their weapons systems."

"Aye, keptin," Tatiyana responded. She tapped another switch, and the image of Christopher Hobbes - an image familiar to Data - filled the viewscreen. The bridge behind him appeared to have been moderately damaged, and the view was dark. Data couldn't see Hobbes' eyes, nor could anyone else. The yellow emergency lights were on in the background, which immediately struck Maddox and Data both as being suspicious.

"This is Captain Bruce Maddox of the Federation starship _Rorschach_," Maddox opened, glaring at the other officer, "Lieutenant Commander Hobbes, would you please explain - "

"Captain Maddox," Hobbes responded, rudely cutting him off. Hobbes was speaking in a monotone, and an eerie one. "It is good to see you. And...it is good to see you, too, Mister..." Hobbes paused, as if trying to recall a name long forgotten, and then smiled lightly. "Mister Data."

Data arched an eyebrow suspiciously.

"Likewise," Data responded.

"Lieutenant Commander Hobbes," Maddox snapped, "I asked you to explain your situation. Either annswer the question, or get me someone who - "

"Why have you charged your weapons?" Hobbes asked, frowning at him. "Do you consider us a threat? We are a science vessel, Captain. Consider the...aggressive nature of your actions. Do you not recall from General...from General orders that such an action is punish...punishable by court-martial?"

Maddox's hand clenched into a fist. There was something most certainly not right here. He glanced over at Tatiyana, who seemed to have little to report. They weren't powering weapons, and they weren't attacking...but there was something seriously wrong with the way that Hobbes was behaving.

"Mister Data," Maddox spoke, lowly, "How many lifesigns aboard?"

Data paused, entering instructions for the sensors into the computer. He turned, when the results were ready.

"Full complement, sir," he responded.

Maddox paused, watching Hobbes on the screen, and considering his next move.

"Is there a problem, Captain?" Hobbes asked.

"Possibly," Maddox answered.

"We could discuss it in greater detail," Hobbes suggested, "If you would be so good as to transport aboard the _Sutherland_. We would be pleased to have you as...have you as our guest."

* * *

The creature watched, from the far side of the bridge, as its puppet continued to act, buying time so that the creature could complete its true task. It had successfully managed to wrench its way into the minds of each and every humanoid creature aboard, every human, every Vulcan, everyone. There wasn't a single creature left not under its influence. It kept silent, watching as the form of Lieutenant Commander Hobbes reassured Bruce Maddox that everything aboard the _Sutherland_ was fine.

And it was. For the creature. As for Hobbes and the rest...well, it was simply unfortunate that they'd been dragged into all of this. But the creature had at least allowed them to keep their lives, and it would allow them to keep their lives once all of this was done. Perhaps. Depending on whether it amused the creature or not to do so.

Controlling all of these beings, though, was a significantly taxing experience for the creature. Its powers were great, its malice and drive even greater, but it was not omnipotent...not infinite...not limitless. It could only do so much. Such was the legacy of the Shining Ones who had abandoned it - once a being of perfection, the creature was now just as flawed as these mortals. And that infuriated it to no end.

Hobbes was struggling, against it. Trying to break free. Trying to regain control. Of all the humans aboard, Hobbes was unusually strong-willed. Doubtless, this was the reason that he was in command. The creature was having a difficult time with him...but the creature knew it only needed to keep its hold over the man another few seconds. It would kill Hobbes as soon as the time was right.

While Hobbes was distracting the _Rorschach_ crew, the creature had manipulated the tactical officer into sending a special message, directly on a carrier wave...a message that was being sent in, over and over and over again. Eventually, it would get the combination right. It was a simple matter of calculation, a simple matter of finding the right crack in the _Rorschach'_s armor. Any minute now...

"Lieutenant Commander," Maddox snapped, his image on the viewscreen growing more and more frustrated by the minute, "Stop changing the subject. You are going to tell me what you're doing out here, and what happened at Starbase Thirty-Four, or I'll have no choice but to - "

Hobbes made one final push. The creature lost him, its hold on his consciousness slipping like sand through its fingers...if it had fingers, anyway. Hobbes stepped forward, just slightly, into the light. The shock on the faces of the bridge crew were apparent when they saw who they were dealing with.

The creature restrained a howl. It only needed a few more seconds...perhaps there was still time...

* * *

"Lieutenant Commander," Maddox snapped, standing up from his chair, "Stop changing the subject. You are going to tell me what you're doing out here, and what happened at Starbase Thirty-Four, or I'll have no choice but to - "

Hobbes then stepped forward into the light, and Maddox stopped dead in his tracks, his complete threat derailed by the implications of what he was seeing. Hobbes was starting to laugh, lightly, but then dissolved into a slight cry, which on its own dissolved into sobs. He was most certainly Christopher Hobbes - chestnut hair, reasonably athletic build, and all. His uniform was Christopher Hobbes'.

But his eyes...his eyes were different. His eyes were black. Not just the pupils, but the whites of his eyes, as well. They were covered by what looked like a black, thick sludge. As Hobbes started to cry, black, slimy tears trickled down the sides of his face.

"Please..." he whispered, "Please, Captain...Captain, you have to...you have to do it..."

Maddox paused, glancing around at the bridge crew. Data was shocked, noticeably. Tatiyana was apalled, and clearly sickened by the appearance of the tears. Gallant was making an effort just to look away.

"Hobbes," Maddox spoke, "Hobbes, what? What do we have to do?"

Data noticed an odd display appearing on his console, and investigated. He glanced up at Maddox, his face showing concern and, perhaps, even a little bit of worry.

"Captain," Data explained, "The ship's sensors have identified a second transmission, using our hails as a carrier wave."

"Second transmission?" Maddox pondered, "To who?"

"It appears to be a string of random characters, but the transmission is being forwarded into our tactical systems," Data explained, "There, the characters are decompressed into specific alphanumeric characters. I suspect the _Sutherland_ is attempting to transmit our prefix codes."

Maddox's eyes widened, and he glanced back at Hobbes, his face a mess of anger and desperation.

"Lieutenant Commander," Maddox snapped, "Explain!"

"Just do it..." Hobbes sobbed, "Please..."

Maddox stepped closer, watching the broken man, his heart struck with pity and fear all at the same time.

"Do what?" Maddox repeated, "What do we have to do?"

Hobbes bit down hard on his lower lip, black tears flowing freely.

"Kill me," he whispered, "Kill me..."

Tatiyana glanced up from her console in terror, slamming her fists down on it, trying to revive failing systems.

"Keptin!" she cried, "Our prefix codes have been transmitted! Shields are falling!" There was another burst of beeps and squeals from the console, and Tatiyana looked back at Maddox with even more fear. "They are firing torpedoes!"

Before Maddox could utter a word, there was a bright flash of light on the viewscreen. Christopher Hobbes was flung across the bridge, and crumpled in a heap at the back of it, dead.

Data recognized the distinct pattern of the energy burst, the flash of light, when Hobbes had been struck. He recognized the way that Hobbes soared, landed, and ceased breathing, curled into a ball at the rear of the bridge.

Hobbes had just died the exact same way Tasha had, and at the same hands.

"Armus," Data whispered, the angry sensations from earlier that day beginning to return to him.

The torpedoes fired by the _Sutherland_ shot forth from the vessel's weapons pod, their path flawless, and within seconds they connected solidly with the hull plating just to the starboard of the main bridge. Without the shields in place, the torpedoes exploded, sinking into the hull itself, and leaving three nasty, black holes, spewing forth fire and ash.

The bridge shook, and flames kicked up from a display on the left side of the room. The lights flickered, and then went to yellow. The indications were tell-tale: the ship's main power had been hit, and was offline. Maddox slammed his fist down on the arm of his chair, glancing over at Tatiyana.

"Lock phasers and photon torpedoes!" he barked, "Target their weapons and engines, and fire at will! Data, get those shields back up!"

"Impossible, sir," Data explained, "As long as the _Sutherland_ is transmitting the prefix codes, we will remain unable to reactivate the shields.

Before he could utter another command, the _Sutherland_ had maneuvered into position behind the _Rorschach_. Gallant tried desperately to steer clear, and to shake her off, but the _Sutherland_ seemed to be matching his every move, his every attempt.

"I can't shake them!" Gallant cried.

"Evasive maneuvers!" Maddox ordered.

"I'm _using_ evasive maneuvers!" Gallant spat, in frustration, "It's not working!"

"Aft torpedo launcher, fire!" Maddox spat, glaring over at Tatiyana.

It was too late. By the time that Tatiyana's fingers touched the panel, the _Sutherland_ had already fired her forward phasers. They struck square, decisive blows to the _Rorschach_'s secondary hull, and to the dorsal part of the saucer section, cutting right through one of the _Rorshach_'s phaser strips. The ship shook, sparks rained down from panels all over the bridge, and, among them, was the communications panels at either side of the captain's chair, as well as several of the displays behind it. Propelled by the force of the explosion behind him, Bruce Maddox flew across the bridge, landing just inches shy of Gallant's chair. He'd struck his head on the way down, and there was a vicious-looking gash near one of his temples. His eyes fluttered, and he fell limp.

As Tatiyana gazed at Maddox's body in horror, Data turned, getting up immediately from his station and tapping his commbadge.

"Bridge to Sickbay," he called, "Medical emergency."

"_Take a number!_" the voice of Ensign Lissa Cohl snapped back, before terminating the transmission.


	11. XI: Green

Green.

Casualties were pouring into sickbay. The green-skinned acting Chief Medical Officer wasn't even long out of the Academy, yet, and found herself overwhelmed. Some of these injuries she'd never even dealt with before...some of them, like the burns of many of the engineers who had come in from the secondary hull, were wounds she'd only read about in textbooks. Wounds she'd never imagined she'd have to deal with in real life. Like the man who'd come in with shards of isolinear chip sticking into his leg so far that they were tearing out the other side. Or like the man who'd been carried in without a leg at all.

She was running back and forth, frantically, from patient to patient to patient. Her medical staff was limited, as was the time that she had to treat each of them. Triage, or dealing as quickly as possible with the patients who had the highest chance of survival, was something she'd hoped she'd never have had to resort to, but she was resorting. Oh, was she ever resorting.

She was standing over a man right now with plasma burns, and a punctured lung from impact into one of the catwalks in Engineering. The dermal regenerator wasn't restoring the tissue fast enough...by the time that she finished with this man, she'd lose the patient next to him. Lissa Cohl just didn't have enough hands to take care of all the injured crewmen. The call from the bridge was the least of her worries right now...but someone had to go. Just in case.

She sighed, with relief, when Merrith Karn stepped into the room. His face paled, and his mouth gaped open at the sight of the injuries, many of them fatal.

"My God," he whispered, "Lissa, are you alright?"

"Fine," Cohl snapped, "But there's an emergency on the bridge. I've already got my people bringing in crewmen from the rest of the ship. I need you to deal with it."

"Alright," Karn sighed, "But...Cohl, if things get ugly, you get to the closest escape pod, it's - "

"Not now! Go, Karn!"

Karn nodded, and Karn stepped out the door, dashing down the corridor towards the nearest turbolift.

* * *

Gallant tried desperately to steer them out from in front of the _Sutherland_, but to no avail.

"They're all over us!" Gallant snapped, struggling to jerk them out of the way.

Tatiyana was frantically firing torpedoes, phasers, and everything else that she could muster at the enemy ship, but by the expression on her face it wasn't nearly enough.

"Commander!" she called out, "Their shields are still at sewenty-two percent! Ve're not going to last much longer, at this rate!"

Data crouched, rolling Bruce over to get a closer look. The man was still breathing, but had gone into shock. It was possible that, left untreated, he would die.

"Captain," Data spoke, softly, "Lie still. A team from Sickbay will arrive shortly."

Bruce nodded, slowly, and swallowed.

"No," he whispered, "No...the ship...the ship..."

"I am assuming command," Data explained, "You will rest."

Maddox chuckled, spitting up blood, and then exhaled deeply, coughing all the while.

"Take care of her, Number One," he rasped, before falling unconscious.

Data stood and tugged down at his uniform front, his face bent in a frown. This was not, per se, the same scowl that he had seen on Picard, or on Riker, nor was it an emulation of either. Data had been wounded. Armus, seven years ago, had taken away someone very dear to him. Armus had destroyed a starbase. Armus had killed Christopher Hobbes, and seized control of the _Sutherland_. Armus would be stopped. Data would draw the line. No quarter was asked, none would be given.

_For Tasha_, he thought to himself_. _He stepped forward, approaching Gallant.

"Cease evasive maneuvers," he commanded, "Bring us to within twenty kilometers of the _Sutherland_."

Gallant turned around, his eyes wide with disbelief.

"Are you malfunctioning, or something?" Gallant snapped, "That will put us in point-blank - !"

"I am aware of the implications, Ensign," Data countered, "Bring us to within twenty kilometers of the _Sutherland_."

Tatiyana glanced over her console, nervously, echoing Gallant's uncertainty.

"Keptin - er, Commander," she reported, "Ve have already sustained heavy damage. Structural integrity is down to fifty-two percent."

"I am aware of the ship's status, Lieutenant," Data snapped. Again, he glanced down at Gallant, his frown growing deeper by the moment. "Reduce speed, bring us in range, or I will relieve you of duty!"

Gallant turned, his face defiant.

"I'll be damned if I - "

"You are relieved," Data snapped. He reached out his hand, pinching the nerve cluster at the base of the man's next. Gallant slumped over, unconscious. Tatiyana glared in horror.

"I am assuming flight control from the Ops station," Data informed her. He sat back down at his station, gazing steadily at the viewscreen. "Switch viewscreen to aft display."

After a stunned moment, Tatiyana complied, and the image of the orange clouds of gas was replaced by the image of the _Sutherland_, closing fast.

"One-hundred kilometers...sixty kilometers..." Tatiyana spoke, watching her station, "Now vithin tventy-thousand, Commander - !"

* * *

The creature watched the main viewer curiously. It was puzzled, as to why the vessel was moving closer, and closer. The _Rorschach_ hadn't yet sustained heavy damage to her engines, or to her impulse drive. Her power levels were low, but not nearly low enough to justify such a decrease in speed. Was Maddox trying to ram them? Would he destroy both ships, just to destroy the creature?

The creature mused, oozing its way closer to the viewscreen, fascinated by the move. It still had control of every person aboard the _Sutherland_, and intended to continue firing until the _Rorschach _surrendered. If it would not surrender, it would be destroyed. And then the creature would be able to resume its course for the Shining Ones without any further incidents, or interruptions.

Through the fingertips of the tactical officer, Holtz, the creature fired torpedo, after torpedo, after torpedo. It would not be long, now, before the other ship was crippled. And then, the creature would move in for the kill, just as it always had.

Just as it always would.

* * *

The sound of a whoosh filled the bridge, along with the sensation of a thrust forward, as Data flew his hands over the console. He watched the main viewer intently. Unbeknownst to Tatiyana, he had decompressed the main shuttlebay, and ejected the _Rorschach_'s complement of shuttlecraft, alone with all of the escape pods. While the _Sutherland_'s shields were full, the impacts of the shuttles would create tiny matter-antimatter explosions that would quickly turn the tide. They would also slow the ship's advance, giving the _Rorschach_ time to maneuver, or to use another tactic.

Data shifted the engines into full impulse, moving them as far forward as he could. As he watched, amidst the torpedoes that Tatiyana was firing, tiny craft, a flotilla of them, moved towards the _Sutherland_ with frightening speed. He glanced over at Tatiyana, his eyes almost wild.

"Lieutenant, target the closest shuttlecraft to the _Sutherland_ and fire."

"But that vill - " she protested, before she realized the android's intention. "That vill create an antimatter reaction..."

"Fire, Lieutenant!" Data repeated, his voice sharp. "Fire!"

Tatiyana scrambled, and fired one of the rear phaser arrays, landing a direct hit on one of the shuttlecraft. It had been a tough shot...an almost impossible shot...but she'd done it.

She was, most certainly, a Chekov.

* * *

The creature observed, curiously, as the _Rorschach_ began to launch its escape craft. This was, of course, a futile move - the _Rorschach _would be destroyed, and the _Sutherland_ would easily pick off the survivors once the other ship was no longer a threat. The creature dismissed the pods and the shuttles as a pointless, foolish gesture.

Until, through the eyes of the tactical officer, the creature realized that the shuttles were unmanned, as were the escape pods.

The creature howled, as the closest shuttle burst into flames, before the flight control officer's hands could guide the ship to safety. The _Sutherland_ shuddered under the impact of the first shuttle, with its explosion setting off a chain reaction. A second shuttle exploded, then a third, then another. Each one pounded into the shields. Once the shields were down, the escape pods punched into the hull, denting it, kicking up plating, ash, fire, and pieces of the bulkheads below.

Shields were down. Several weapons arrays were disabled. Other than that, though, the _Sutherland_ was unharmed. The creature growled, knowing that such a move was too lucky to be repeated. Too convenient. The creature would yet have the _Rorschach_. It would not be cheated of its revenge so easily.


	12. XII: Blue

_Blue_

* * *

As usual, I have responses for the two last reviews posted on this particular story. On the subject of the LONG DELAY in posting this chapter...I have only to say that I HATE writing action sequences. I like writing character development, plot, introvertedness...but "ship fly, ship shoot, ship go boom" I find to be incredibly complicated and difficult. I have a hard time writing anything even remotely suspenseful. So, readers, you have my apolgies for the delay, and apologies for the lame action sequence between the _Rorschach_ and _Sutherland_. Doubtless, I'll go back one of these days and just re-edit the whole thing. xD

**Miss Misty June - I agree with you, on that. I mean, there's plenty of good fanfiction out there...but once in awhile, you come across a real gem. Rollercoaster is one such gem. I would love to be able to write like that.**

**Galaxy0909 - In regards to the story that you're currently writing, keep up the good work! And...in regards to your question on whether Data could get drunk, I have but three words for you: "The Naked Now". xD He's plenty of fun drunk, don't you worry. If you've never seen the episode, I recommend watching it on Youtube - it's one of my favorites.**

As I mentioned last time...anybody else who reviews these little chapters will get a response from me before I start the next chapter I work on. So...if you like a little feedback with your feedback, leave some feedback! (Yes, I know that the logic of that previous sentence was TERRIBLY flawed...but please leave feedback anyway!)

* * *

Tatiyana let out a sigh of relief, taking a quick step back from her tactical station and watching the cascade of explosions across the hull of the _USS Sutherland_. She glanced over at Data in disbelief, the shock on her face apparent.

"It...it vorked, Commander!" she gasped. "Direct hit to their shields! They are dropping speed and moving to evade the rest of the lifeboats!"

"Correct," Data responded, twitching between words as he determined his next move, "We were successful, although we were very nearly did not. The permutations, calculations, and extrapolations required to determine the torpedo's trajectory would have been posed a complex challenge for even an android."

She smiled, glowing under the approval. She'd played a dangerous game of roulette with the ship closing behind them...Russian Roulette, specifically. She'd just been lucky enough not to catch the bullet. It had been a damned good shot though.

If one thing was no longer in dispute, it was that Tatiyana was indeed a Chekov.

"So...now ve escape?" Tatiyana asked, anxiously.

"Negative," Data responded, still twitching mildly, "The damage to the _USS Sutherland_ is minor, and the prefix codes have disabled our shields. We are, in our current condition, still a far more vulnerable target than the Sutherland herself. It is logical to assume that Armus will pursue us."

As Data paused, still considering his next move, the doors of the turbolift behind them opened, and Merrith Karn stepped onto the bridge, his bright blue uniform in stark constrast with the rest of his surroundings. Despite the dim lighting of the room, thanks to the several blown panels and emergency lights, Karn immediately spotted the fallen forms of both Captain Bruce Maddox and Ensign Daniel Gallant. Both were breathing, but Maddox looked to be in far worse condition than Gallant. There was a nasty gash along the side of the captain's head, blood trickling down into his dark hair. Merrith crouched down, beside him, glancing up at Data, who seemed to be flying the ship from Ops.

"What the hell happened to him?" Karn demanded.

"The interface and displays directly behind the Captain's seat were damaged, and exploded," Data explained, "The force of the explosion violently propelled the Captain forward. He struck his parietal lobe on contact with the floor, and - "

"Alright, alright!" Karn snapped, cutting him off. The man reached down, picking the Captain up as best he could, and glancing forward at the other fallen man. "What about Gallant? Should I send another team up for him?"

"Gallant's performance was less than desireable," Data explained, matter-of-factly, "He was incapacitated. He should regain consciousness within several minutes." Merrith's face contorted into a look of shock, and he whirled around to face Tatiyana, about to ask for a bit of clarification. Data cut him off, glancing at Tatiyana and speaking first. "Lieutenant," Data spoke, "I am diverting power from phasers and non-essential systems to the main tractor beam. Prepare to target the _USS Soyuz_ on our approach."

"But, Commander, ve are not currently on approach to the - "

The ship violently swerved as Data's fingers flew over the console in front of him. Merrith slipped a few steps to the left, almost dropping the dear unconscious captain on his head a second time, but swerving back to the right, regaining his footing.

"We are _now_," Data corrected her. He then turned to Karn, watching the man with his usual, neutral expression. "I recommend you remove yourself from the bridge with haste, Mister Karn. You will be required in sickbay when our maneuver produces further casualties."

"Further casualties?!?" Karn snapped, glancing over at Tatiyana with terror on his face, "Has he blown a fuse, or something - ?"

"I assure you my condition is unchanged," Data countered. "As acting captain of this vessel, I rescind my recommendation, and order you to return to Sickbay, Mister Karn." He glanced up, his face sterner than before. "Now."

Karn sighed, and scurried into the turbolift with the Captain still in his arms. The doors whooshed closed, leaving Tatiyana and Data alone on the bridge once more. Tatiyana swallowed nervously, apparently with the same question on her mind that Karn had on his. Data seemed to be behaving...irratically. Violent. Almost wanton in his vendetta against the vessel closing on them, and against this Armus character. It seemed that everything else had become a second concern...including lives. _When _our maneuver produces casualties, he'd said. Data was planning something, and planning something reckless.

"Do you vant to me to try hailing the wessel again, Commander?" Chekov asked, nervously.

"Negative," Data responded, "Lock tractor beam on the _Soyuz_ and stand by." He glanced down at the display in front of him, and half-frowned. "Power allocation is insufficient," he sighed, and then tapped a set of buttons on the right hand side of the console in front of him.

"Bridge to Lieutenant Wright. Please respond."

* * *

Wright coughed, waving the burst of gas from the relay out of his face, dispersing it. His face was covered in soot, gel, and grime, and his hands were red and calloused. His face was bent in a snarl, his usual spengler wrench in hand, raised menacingly at the plasma conduit in front of him.

"Come on," he snarled, "Work with me, here." He smacked the wrench against the surface of the panel, and it flickered out of existence. "Damnit!" he cried out, tearing it open, raising his tricorder, and raising the wrench to repair the damaged circuits within. He reached into his jumpsuit pocket, pulled out a handful of isolinear chips, and started to repair the damaged parts of the conduit. "Don't you die on me, you lazy wench," he snapped, "Not like this. After all the hell you've put me through, girl, I'm not about to let you off the hook this easily..."

He was interrupted by a trilling sound, coming from his commbadge. He jumped, startled, half-expecting for the next sound he heard to be a hull breach, venting him out into space. In doing so, he smacked his head roughly off the front of the console, and glowered at the dim display menacingly.

"You did that on purpose," he growled.

Wright was irate - extremely so, in fact. His Engineering staff were all over the ship, repairing breaches, damaged sections, restoring main power, and running around the ship in general as if their uniforms were aflame. The _Sutherland_'s attack had been nothing for him if not inconvenient.

"_Bridge to Lieutenant Wright_," the monotone voice called from the badge, "_Please respond._"

Damn. The android was calling. Another bloody machine, making his job even more difficult than it was already proving to be.

"Wright here!" he snapped, "I'm a bit busy fixing up a relative of yours! Try back later!"

"_Negative_," Data answered, "_Abort your current task. Divert all power from the shield generators to the tractor beam._"

"Tractor beam?!?" Wright snapped, "You want a tractor beam? What about structural integrity? Or phasers? Or, hmm, maybe main power, Commander?"

"_You will divert power to the tractor beam_," Data repeated.

"Get me the Captain," Wright snapped, "I will not drop everything and run my staff around fixing a tractor beam without a damned good explanation, especially in the middle of a crisis!"

"_You will divert power to the tractor beam_," Data repeated, "_And you will accept the orders of your Acting Captain without question, or you shall be relieved."_

Wright's eyes widened in horror. He'd been repairing the machines on board for a long, long time. He'd put up with Maddox's pet projects for an even longer time. He'd had it to hell and back with the robotic nonsense, the synthetic and mechanical ineptitudes that he'd had to suffer aboard as an Engineer. And now he was doomed to be commanded by one, to serve under one. It was as if his worst fears had taken a solid, physical form in their new android First Officer, and now the android was running the ship.

"_Divert power to the tractor beam!_" Data called out loudly, a hint of anger in his voice, "_Divert power now!_"

Wright slammed the console shut, picked up his tools, and started moving towards Main Engineering again.

"Alright, alright already!" he yelled, grumbling to himself as he made his way into the nearby turbolift. "Blasted automaton..."

* * *

Data tapped the controls in front of him once more. At present, the _Rorschach _ was circling around, on a direct collision course with the wreck of the _USS Soyuz_. The _USS Sutherland_ was powering up her impulse engines again, preparing to pursue the still-rather-damaged _USS Rorschach_. In her current state, the _Rorschach_ was damaged to the point where her structural integrity fields were screaming in their struggle to hold together. Wright's best efforts were keeping the ship intact, but that would only last so long. The priority, at this time, was disabling the _USS Sutherland_, and rendering her useless if either ship and crew were to survive.

And as for the _Sutherland_...with Armus in control, the crew was technically quarantined. They were obviously, judging by Hobbes' last moments, under Armus' control. Which meant that, for all intents and purposes, they were dead men already. And those of them who weren't would likely welcome death, readily, as a release from the torment of their manipulator and puppet master.

Data recalled Armus well, and recalled the creature's malice well. He couldn't comprehend, nor did he wish to, the horrors that the creature had inflicted on the _Sutherland_'s crew. If it was anything like what the creature had done to Tasha, or like what Data had witnessed it doing to Hobbes...

This reflection was an inefficient use of Data's time, and Data acknowledged this with a frown, pulling himself out of his trance as the _Soyuz _grew closer, and closer. For now, the _Sutherland_ was slightly out of weapons range, but was closing again, and fast. They would reach the _Soyuz_ just as the _Sutherland_ came into firing range. They would have only seconds to execute the plan that Data had in mind before they would be destroyed.

Data ran through the records of the simulations that he had on file in his positronic brain that had been completed by Tatiyana Chekov. Her test scores, and her performance thus far, were sufficient to assume that she would be able to complete the maneuver effectively. As long as Wright could provide the power to the tractor beam...the plan would proceed without flaw, and the _Sutherland_ would be crippled.

Now all they needed was time...and luck. At this time, Data projected that there was only a 32.7% chance that this was going to work...and so they would require a significant amount of luck. Quite a significant amount, in fact.

"Tractor beam charged and locked," Tatiyana reported, calling across the bridge.

Data watched the short-range sensor readout in front of him, which indicated the _Sutherland_ moving in closer, like a predator approaching for the kill. As long as they reached the _Soyuz_ before the _Sutherland_ entered weapons range...they should be just fine.

* * *

The creature cackled to itself, in a deep echoing bass, as it watched the _Rorschach_ on the viewscreen swerve, and retreat further into the expanse on thin gases. Obviously, the ship was trying to make a run for it. The ship seemed to be moving...differently, than before. Perhaps the "Tin Man" that Armus had encountered on Vagra II was planning something...plotting something. Oh, Armus remembered the Tin Man well. And what Armus couldn't remember, it could recall quite readily from the memories that it had absorbed when it had drained the life force from the woman it had killed on the Vagra II mission.

Armus watched the tactical panel through Holtz' eyes, and grinned as the _Rorschach_ moved closer and closer to weapons range again. The other ship had dealt them a severe blow, but it was still in no shape to match them. The _Sutherland_'s weapons were still intact, her structural integrity was holding. In effect, all the _Rorschach_ had done was rip a few gouges into the saucer section, and lower the _Sutherland_'s shields.

Armus still had superior firepower. Armus' ship was closing on the _Rorschach_. Before long, Armus would be rid of the meddling Federation vessel, and would be able to resume a course for the Shining Ones. Revenge would be Armus', at last.

* * *

Tatiyana watched with morbid curiosity as the _USS Soyuz_ came further and further into view, starting to fill up the viewscreen as they approached. At their current speed, they'd hit the _Soyuz_ within seconds, if Data didn't change course. She glanced over at the android, and noticed that he didn't seem to be making any moves to reduce speed, or to change their heading. She was concerned, but had already seen Data pull off one relatively wild, unconventional move already. The android still seemed to be behaving irratically...but so far, that had kept them alive. Tatiyana couldn't complain about that.

Data glanced up at her, watching the _Soyuz_ approach.

"Engage tractor beam," he commanded.

"Aye, sir," she responded, still not understanding. Immediately, the _Soyuz_, which was already coming closer and closer, increased its pace, pulled in even closer to the _Rorschach_ by the tractor beam. Within seconds, they'd doubtlessly collide, especially at this speed.

"Move the _Soyuz_ to the underside of the ship," Data continued. Tatiyana flicked the appropriate buttons, but bit down on her bottom lip, knowing that they'd still collide unless the course changed. Behind them, the _Sutherland_ was still closing fast. Viciously fast.

"On my mark," Data commanded, in a calm monotone despite the approaching doom in the _Soyuz_'s form, "Inverse the polarity of the tractor beam, and use it as a repulsor."

"Commander," Tatiyana snapped, not seeing the logic or the point to these commands, "Commander, are you sure that this vill - "

"Do it," Data commanded, his eyes warning her not to further question his commands. She nodded nervously, and manned her post.

Data's commbadge trilled, and Wright's voice joined the pair of voices on the bridge.

"_Wright to Bridge!"_ the melancholy engineer barked, "_I've given you an extra 10% efficiency, but that's the best you're going to get, so you'd better be happy with - _"

"Sufficient," Data snapped, cutting the Engineer off. Just as the proximity alarms went off at the flight control station, Data slammed his palm down on the Ops console, banking the ship up and to starboard sharply. Tatiyana had to hold on to her console just to stay on her feet. Data glanced up at her, his eyes not showing even a trace of hesitation.

"Engage repulsor beam," Data ordered.

Tatiyana nodded, and changed the polarity of the beam. There was a shuddering as the phaser cannons from the _Soyuz_ scraped across the underside of the primary hull. They pulled away just in time for the cannons to miss the secondary hull. But what had been the point...? What had been the purpose?

Tatiyana glanced down at her console, and swallowed nervously. The _Sutherland_ had just entered weapons range.

* * *

Armus watched with curiosity as the _Rorschach _locked a glowing, blue tractor beam on the _Soyuz_. The ship appeared to be on a collision course, and seemed to be using the _Soyuz_ to help itself along on its way to oblivion. Armus found it...disconcerting, and unlikely that a race so attached to life and their own existence would make such a drastic move to end that existence. Something was certainly amiss.

It didn't matter, though. Within seconds, they would enter weapons range of the _Rorschach_. Another volley would guarantee that the ship would be incapable of doing them any more harm. One more volley was all it would take, with any luck at all, to destroy the ship. And then, it would be full speed ahead, towards the destination of the Shining Ones. The ones who had trapped Armus on this wretched plane, in this infernal form.

Its thoughts were interrupted by a sense of dread that Armus felt from Holtz' consciousness. Armus turned its attention back towards the main viewer. The _Rorschach_ seemed to have veered, scraping the _Soyuz _beneath its hull lightly as it passed over the ship, the blue tractor beam still locked.

And then, Armus understood. Again, the _Rorschach_ had come up with a creative maneuver...a clever plan. Armus seized control of the flight control officer, desperately, trying to steer the _Sutherland_ out of the path of the now-approaching ship. It was to no avail. The _Soyuz,_ propelled by the tractor beam and by the slingshot effect that the momentum of the _Rorschach_ and the force of the tractor beam had created, was moving too quickly now. There was only one option left.

Revenge.

Armus might die, here, unable to fulfill its revenge against the Shining Ones...but it was not, under any circumstance, going to allow these annoying, primitive beings to best it. It seized control of Holtz, once more, and fired all weapons - phasers, photon torpedoes, everything. An array of beams and projectiles spewed forth from the _Sutherland_, just as the _Soyuz _was about to collide. The torpedoes and phaser beams soared harmlessly past the _Soyuz_, but their course for the _Rorschach _was true.

There would be no escape, from Armus' wrath. Not for those who would dare oppose it.

* * *

Tatiyana's eyes widened, and red lights started to flash on the console in front of her. She glanced up, clutching the sides of the console, in terror.

"Commander!" she cried, "They're firing veapons! Incoming phasers and torpedoes! Impact in ten seconds!"

Data had been observing the _Soyuz_, approaching the _Sutherland_. He engaged evasive maneuvers, but knew they were ultimately futile. The _Rorschach_ had been damaged, and would be unable to move out of the torpedoes' path in time. The ship shuddered, as the phasers struck true against her primary hull, carving thick gouges deep into the saucer section of the ship. This caused Data to temporarily lose helm control, which prevented him from effectively steering them at all away from the torpedoes. They were dead in the water.

It was with fascination, and a sense of victorious...pride...?...that Data watched the _Soyuz_ slam into the main deflector dish of the _Sutherland_, ricocheting hard into the port warp nacelle. Immediately, a cluster of explosions were triggered at the points of contact. According to sensors, a warp core breach was in progress. He smirked, feeling his emotion chip in full swing. He was concerned, for a moment, that it might have been malfunctioning...because the thought of Armus' death, despite all other concerns...brought him a great deal of pleasure. As if he'd just rid himself of a weight that he'd carried for a very, very long time. He chuckled, darkly, watching the torpedoes approach.

"This is the Captain," he reported, opening hailing frequencies to all decks on the ship, "All hands, brace for impact."

He leaned back in his chair, humming a little diddy that had fascinated his older brother, Lore, once. A tune that Doctor Noonien Soong himself had taught them many years ago. Right now, at what would surely be his end...it seemed strangely, sickly appropriate.

"_The sons of the prophets are valiant and bold, and quite unaccustomed to fear,_" he sang. Tatiyana glanced over at him in horror, still bracing against her console.

"Impact in five seconds!" she wailed.

"_And the bravest among them, or so I am told..._" he finished, laughing almost madly as the torpedoes slammed into the primary hull, "_Was Abdul Abulbul Amir..._"

Impact.


	13. XIII: Purple

_Purple_

The reddish-purple explosion from the deflector dish rocked the _USS Sutherland._ The ship shuddered violently, in her death knell, and Armus, still in control of the crew, realized quickly through the eyes of the Chief Engineer that the warp engine's core was about to breach, destroying the ship. The only option, for survival, was to separate the ship. The saucer and stardrive sections of a Nebula-Class vessel, though configured differently than a Galaxy-Class ship, for example, could still detach into two separate components. Right now, that would be enough.

Half of the ship's surviving crew was still on the stardrive section...but that was irrelevant. This would only mean that Armus would have better control of the crew that had survived. Less targets for its telepathic projections and abilities. Regardless...right now, the ship had to separate. It was the only way to stay alive. Armus, through the Chief Engineer's hands, engaged the saucer separation, and as the saucer section broke off from the stardrive section, Armus had the flight control officer plot an immediate course straight ahead, moving at full impulse. They would move, as best they could, out of the way of the shockwave that the core breach was sure to produce. There was no other option.

The only consolation to Armus, at this point, for the whole disaster that had ensued, was that the torpedoes that it had fired had already met their mark, smashing into the saucer section of the _USS Rorschach_. Fire was raging across the top of the vessel, and it seemed to be careening wildly out of control. The impulse engines on the ship's saucer were damaged as well. Armus couldn't tell if the bridge had been hit or not...it was too far away, and spinning too quickly, to be able to say for sure.

One way or another, though...at least Armus had wounded them. That was amusement enough to satisfy it for now.

Now, all it needed to do was survive the impending shockwave...

The stardrive section exploded, spewing fire and debris forth. The impulse drive on the saucer section of the _Sutherland_ screamed, as the flying bits of the rest of the ship approached, propelled by a wave of energy and momentum from the breached warp core.

Only seconds until impact...

* * *

The blank, blue, shattered viewscreen at the front of the bridge was letting off a glow that, beneath the dim red emergency lights, turned a violet-purple color. Tatiyana Chekov didn't notice - she was hardly conscious, draped across her console, breathing shallowly as the oxygen in the primary hull began to seep away. Through her dim vision, she saw a man with a red shirt and pale skin standing over her, with distinct and solid yellow eyes.

Data.

Data reached down and lifted her up, taking her in his arms easily, as if she were a child. Like her grandfather used to.

"Grandfather..." he whispered, smiling in a daze up at the Lieutenant Commander, "Grandfather Piotr..."

Data spoke not a word, but slung her over his shoulder. He approached Gallant, who was still lying over his station, and raised the Ensign over his other shoulder. He kept silent until he reached the turbolift. He entered it, and the door sealed shut behind him. The oxygen was still very thin - the hull breaches in the primary hull had knocked out its life support systems, and its impulse engines. For all intents and purposes, the saucer section of the _Rorschach_ was useless. Completely useless. It was only dead weight, now, holding the stardrive section down. From the displays he'd seen on the bridge, the _Sutherland_ had a core breach in progress. It had already separated, and its own saucer section was trying to retreat from the blast. The shockwave would hit the _Rorschach _in approximately four minutes. That would have to be enough time to evacuate the saucer...the only way they would escape, at this rate, was in the stardrive section.

"Battle Bridge," Data commanded the lift. "All hands, this is the Captain. Evacuate to the stardrive section, and prepare for saucer separation."

Though the _Sutherland_ had been crippled...and worse...the _Rorschach_ and her crew weren't out of the woods yet. Not by a long shot. If they could separate the saucer in time, and take the stardrive section to full impulse, they'd be able to clear the shockwave. That was their only chance, now.

Their last chance.

* * *

Cohl strapped the last of her patients down to a stretcher, just as Karn came through the Sickbay doors carrying the Captain.

"God," she whispered, spotting the gash, "What happened?!?"

"I don't know!" Karn answered, snappily, "He hit his head, or something! I wasn't there!"

Cohl passed the stretcher she was working on, and the patient lying on it, to one of the other nurses. She dashed to the back of the room, grabbed another stretcher, and rolled it over to Karn. Immediately, Karn set Maddox, unconscious still, down upon it, and glanced up at Cohl.

"Is he going to make it?" Karn asked.

Cohl frowned, picked up her medical tricorder, and grabbed the handle of the stretcher, starting to roll it out the Sickbay doors, and down the corridor.

"We're going to have to wait to find out," she sighed, "I'll scan while we're on our way...but our acting captain has just given the order to separate the saucer."

Karn nodded, nervously. He still wasn't completely sure what to make of Mister Data at all, but his first impression of the android had been that Data wasn't entirely...stable. That said, he was the captain, and Karn wasn't about to argue with that. Not until after they were out of this...assuming that any of them survived...

"Let's move," Cohl barked, dashing down the hallway with Karn close behind.

* * *

Eventually, the _Sutherland_ was less outrunning the explosion of the stardrive section, and was rather riding it, like a wave. Armus was using the aerodynamic, flat shape of the saucer, and angling it just right, so that it pushed off of the wave and moved forward, into the more dispersed areas of the wave itself. The saucer section would survive. Armus would survive.

This, however, still posed a problem. Now, Armus lacked a ship with warp capability. Just like on Vagra II...the creature would be trapped. Again. With no means of escape.

It would be Vagra II's exile, all over again. It would be alone...forever.

For the first time in its existence...Armus felt fear.

* * *

By the time that the turbolift reached the battle bridge, Tatiyana and Gallant had regained consciousness, and were standing, albeit shakily, at the sides of the lift. Tatiyana looked woozy, as if she'd been intoxicated or underslept, but Gallant looked as if he genuinely ached. For some reason, he kept clutching at his neck, as if something were sore. Data made a point not to explain where Gallant's ailment had come from - it would probably only infuriate the helmsman.

The bridge was dimly-lit, but it was in one piece - which was far more than could be said for the bridge on the saucer section. Data quickly marched over to the Command Chair, and took his seat. Tatiyana stumbled over to the tactical station, behind him, and Gallant took his place at the flight control panel in front of Data. Data couldn't help noting, with a little amusement, that the battle bridge was even larger on a Nebula-Class starship than the main bridge had been. That was a rather moot point right now, however. They had greater concerns.

"Lieutenant Chekov," Data commanded, "Status report on the evacuation."

Tatiyana glanced quickly over the display in front of her, and took a moment longer than usual to respond - this display was different, and the elements she was used to being compressed into a smaller panel were now all over the place.

"Eighty-five percent complete," she answered, watching the approaching shockwave on sensors, "Wavefront impact in two minutes, ten seconds."

Data paused, considering the options.

"Ensign Gallant," he ordered, "When Tatiyana reports a complete evacuation, set a course full ahead, at Warp Two. Take us out of range of the wave."

"Aye, sir," Gallant responded, still rubbing the back of his neck. Gallant also looked out of place, here - the interfaces he'd been using on the main bridge hadn't been installed yet. He seemed to be...disconcerted...by having to enter commands manually, through the fingertips on his robotic prosthetic arms. "Setting course and standing by."

Now it was all just a matter of waiting. A bead of nervous sweat trailed down Tatiyana's brow as she watched the reports coming in from the crew. They were cutting it close - too close. The crew was moving to the stardrive section at a rate that would only give them moments to spare. She breathed a sigh of relief as the last lifesign moved from the saucer to stardrive, and flicked a switch on her console accordingly.

"Evacuation complete!" she called out, "Initiating saucer separation!"

Her relieved smile, though, turned quickly into a look of frustration and fear as her console started to trill, and a red warning indicator light started to blink on and off.

"No!" she cried, "One of the magnetic interlocks are jammed! Interlock three's frozen up! Ve're stuck!"

Data tapped his communicator badge with haste, not hesitating so much as a moment.

"Bridge to Lieutenant Wright," he commanded, "Proceed to manual controls to magnetic interlock three."

Wright's voice hollered back, giving off a tinny sound through the small communicator.

"_I'm kind of tied up!_" he snapped, "_Is this really that important?_"

"If you do not restore the interlocks," Data explained, "We will be struck by a class-two shockwave, and the _Rorschach_ will be destroyed. Proceed to the magnetic interlocks, and manually release interlock three."

There was silence for a moment on the other end, and then what sounded like a muffled snarl.

"_Fine. On my way,_" Wright growled.

* * *

Wright dashed through the corridor, knocking over various objects in the hallway as well as the occasional crewman in his mad rush towards the interlocks. Of course, the android would have sent for the chief engineer to repair an interlock when he probably could have just taken thirty seconds, stepped off the bridge, and done it himself. The android was out to get him, Wright was convinced. Just like the ship. Just like all of Maddox's other insane cybernetic creations. He reached the interlock panels, and tore the covering off.

He glanced inside and grimaced. Someone had cut one of the cables that connected auxiliary power to Interlock Three. Or...well, it was more than likely that with all the shaking and shuddering the ship had done under the impact of the _Sutherland_'s weapons, the wire had just come apart. The only thing to do at this point was to jump-start the circuit, to manually connect the two contacts of the wire. Which, Wright noted, would probably run thousands of volts of energy through his body and kill him.

Business as usual for the _Rorschach_'s Chief Engineer.

Wright grabbed onto the two wires, with his bare hands, and pressed the contacts together. There were a few tiny sparks, but there was nothing running through that would give them the power they needed to deactivate the interlocks. Wright cursed, but continued, knowing that they only had second before the wave would hit.

"Come on," he coached, speaking aloud to the open console, "Come on, girl...just work. Come on. Make contact. Don't let me down...don't you let me down..."

And then, a new possibility occured to Wright. Use of a word that he hadn't used on a machine in years. He pressed the contacts together firmly, and whispered softly, so that absolutely no one else would hear him say it. Truth be told, he was apalled that he'd been forced to resort to this.

"...please..." he hissed.

Instantly, a bright violet flash went off inside the console, at the point of contact between the two wires. Electricity ran through Wright's body violently, flinging him back about ten feet into the corridor. He landed flat on his back, little static sparks bursting and coursing all over his body, and Wright glanced up to see that the third interlock was glowing, and had been successfully deactivated.

"Yes!" he cried, a broad smile on his face, "Good girl!"

He tapped his commbadge, alerting the Battle Bridge.

"Wright here! We're all set! Now, let's get the hell out of here!"


	14. XIV: Brown

_Brown_

The _Rorschach_'s interlocks disengaged, and the saucer floated harmlessly forward, adrift. The stardrive section of the craft sharply turned, as Ensign Gallant started to veer the ship sharply away from the approaching shockwave. There was sweat running down his brow, adrenaline was pumping through his system, his pulse was quick, and his eyes were wide. As soon as the saucer section had moved from the main viewer, and was angled out of the way of the stardrive section, Gallant punched the console, engaging the ship's warp drive.

The shockwave bore down on them like an avalanche, its destructive wake moving nearer to them with every split-second. Just as the wave was about to overtake them, the warp nacelles to the ship's port and starboard flashed, and the _Rorschach_ jumped to warp. Clouds and debris whizzed by harmlessly, and wake grew more and more distant. Finally, harmlessly distant. Tatiyana watched on her console as, behind them, the shockwave began to disperse into harmless ripples.

She chuckled, lightly and nervously. Gallant whooped loudly, and turned to face Data and Tatiyana with a broad smile on his face. Data's face was as stoic and steady as ever, but if one looked closely, there was a hint of a half-smile on the android's face. Data was surprised, after all, that they'd survived the encounter. He'd rid himself of a menace who had haunted him for the last seven years. The _Rorschach_ was still in one piece...well, mostly. The _Rorschach_ would still be capable of completing her mission. Armus was gone.

Or...Armus _seemed_ to be gone.

Data paused, frowning. The _Sutherland_ had separated its saucer...it was possible that the saucer section had not been destroyed in the explosion. If Armus had survived, if even a trace of Armus had survived, then the collective suffering of Tasha and Hobbes and everyone on the _Rorschach_ and _Sutherland_ who'd died would have been wasted, vainly. Data wasn't about to stop until he knew that Armus was nothing but a memory.

He stood, and tugged down at his red uniform front. There was a dark reddish-brown burn where he'd been struck by sparks, and an even deeper brown stain where Maddox had bled on him when Data had been examining the captain's wounds. The uniform was showing the same wear and the same fatigue that the crew of the _Rorschach_ felt right now, Data included. The whole event had been most trying on his emotion chip and his positronic brain as a whole.

He recalled, with fondness, how Picard had made him promise when he'd left McKinley Station to bring back a few stories. If nothing else, this would most certainly make a riveting story for the older officer. It would, potentially, be likened to Picard's old war stories of Maxia and tours near the Cardassian border.

Data stored the thought for later recollection, and returned to the problem at hand. While Tatiyana, Gallant, and most of the rest of the crew, most likely, were in the midst of celebration right now, their job was far from over.

"Mister Gallant," Data commanded, "Bring us about, 175 mark 23. Once locked in to those co-ordinates, set an intercept course on the _USS Sutherland_'s last known trajectory. Warp One."

Gallant looked up at the senior officer in surprise, but didn't hesitate to follow orders. He'd learned that the android didn't like having his orders disobeyed - his neck still stung from the last time he'd thought to question Data's logic. Gallant turned the _Rorschach_ around, watching his sensors carefully for any sign of the other ship.

"Engage," Data ordered, unconsciously pointing a finger forward at the viewscreen. He paused, twitched, and mused over yet another fascinating thought. Perhaps he'd picked up more command habits from Jean-Luc Picard than he'd originally believed...

Gallant, of course, didn't know the difference. He punched in the co-ordinates, and put the _Rorschach_ back into warp, headed for the _USS_ _Sutherland_.

"Lieutenant Chekov," Data ordered, "Arm phasers and photon torpedoes. Inform Mister Wright that we will require as much power diverted to those systems as he can provide."

Tatiyana glanced down at him from the tactical station, her eyes uncertain.

"Meestur Vright is not going to like that, Commander..." she warned.

"Noted," Data acknowledged, "Inform him nonetheless."

Tatiyana sighed, and sent a signal through private channels at her station to Wright's communicator. There were a few seconds of silence, as the crew on the bridge watched the bright orange-brown clouds part on the display before them. Data's gaze and focus were unwavering, and his eyes never moved from the viewscreen. They darted back and forth between clouds and waves, watching for even the most remote sign of the _Sutherland_.

"The _Sutherland_ was limited to sublight speeds," he thought aloud, "Based on its previous trajectory, we should reach the saucer section in thirty-four-point-five seconds. Maintain current heading, Mister Gallant, and monitor short-range sensors."

"Aye, sir," Gallant responded.

Just as Data was about to turn and speak another order, a haggard, dishevelled Chief Engineer with frizzy hair stepped onto the bridge, through the parting turbolift doors, purple sparks still flying across his uniform front.

"You yellow-eyed bastard!" Lieutenant Wright spat, storming onto the bridge, right in front of Data, "You unfeeling, melancholy, yellow-eyed bastard!"

"Lieutenant Wright," Data asked, curiously, "Might I ask what I have done to merit your frustrations?"

"We just spent the last ten minutes trying to get away from that ship, and you're turning us around and taking us right back into the fray with her?" Wright snapped, coming within inches of the android's face, "I'm holding this ship together with a spengler wrench and duct tape! Do you have any idea what's going to happen if you fly us back against the - "

"Duct tape," Data observed, cocking his head slightly, "A twenty to twenty-first century terran convenience item used to seal minor ruptures in ducts, used for a variety of purposes and noted for its durable nature - "

"Lord, have mercy," Wright muttered, burying his face in his hands in exasperation.

"A fascinating metaphor," Data observed, "This 'duct tape' may warrant further investigation when we are no longer in crisis. For the time being, however, my orders stand."

"Stand?!?" Wright roared, flying completely off the handle, "Have you lost your positronic mind? We're going to get torn apart!"

"Mister Wright, your concerns are noted," Data barked, "Following the crisis there will be a debriefing for the senior staff, and you will be in attendance. I will hear your concerns at that time. Dismissed."

"Debriefing?" Wright scoffed, "Assuming we live that long!"

"You are dismissed, Mister Wright," Data repeated.

Wright threw his hands up in the air and stormed back off the bridge, into the corridor. Tatiyana chuckled dryly at Wright's antics. Though he was innately negative, Wright was the sort of person who could bring a little life and a little laughter to any situation - generally by being the object of said laughter. Her console, at that moment, started to whine. Tatiyana glanced down, noting that one of her sensors had picked something up to starboard.

"Ve have contact," Tatiyana reported, "Bearing 060 mark 005. Distance 20,000 meters."

Data nodded.

"Thank you, Lieutenant," he acknowledged. He moved forward, standing right behind Gallant, watching the viewscreen from behind the helm station. "Mister Gallant, reduce to impulse speed, move to intercept. Keep us out of weapons range until we can confirm the contact."

"Aye, sir," Gallant nodded. As the clouds begin to part, the silhouette of a _Nebula-Class_ starship's saucer section was as clear as day. Data's face folded into a frown. Armus had survived.

"Lieutenant Chekov," he commanded, "Lock phasers and torpedoes."

"Keptin - er, Commander!" Chekov snapped, her eyes wide with fright, "The enemy target is disabled. Her main power is offline, her impulse drive is disengaged, and her veapons are powered down. Shouldn't we attempt to reason with - "

"Armus cannot be reasoned with," Data responded, matter-of-factly. "Armus will not stop until it is destroyed, or until we are. Armus is not a creature bound by any ethical or moral code, and has no regard for the lives or existences of other beings. It is manipulating the crew of the _Sutherland_. We cannot assume that Armus is not a threat until it is destroyed."

Tatiyana and Gallant paused, watching their commander with a great deal of apprehension. Data, at first, didn't understand why. And then...then it all sank in.

"Lieutenant," Data sighed, "How many lifesigns aboard?"

She paused, reading over the display in front of her.

"Ve managed to escape with only a few casualties...but...the _Sutherland_ had a crew of four hundred seventy-two vhen she left spacedock...she's down to ninety-three."

Data paused, considering his next move. He realized that since this crisis had started, he had been barking orders, flying into action, allowing in many circumstances his experience and his all-too emotional grudge with Armus to shape his command decisions. He had proven himself in more than one regard emotionally compromised by his history with the creature. He knew that, ultimately, the _Rorschach_'s voyage would not succeed without the crew operating at full efficiency...and, for that to happen, the crew needed to be able to trust its commander.

Commander...

...Maddox...

Data paused, and analyzed the situation. The _Sutherland_ was adrift. The _Rorschach_ was heavily damaged. Wright had been correct - they needed repairs, and needed them badly. Data could not assume that they were ready yet for another engagement. He wasn't about to let his guard down, though. No...he had to enlist the assistance of an old friend for this decision. He had to see Captain Maddox.

"Lieutenant Chekov," he ordered, "You have the bridge. Alert me at the first sign of activity on the _Sutherland_."

"Aye, keptin," Tatiyana nodded, quietly.

Data stepped off the bridge, and into the corridor. The lighting on the ship was dark, and most of the hull plating was lit only by the reflection of the red emergency lights. The air was thick with smoke, and with the smell of burning bulkheads. The stardrive section wasn't nearly as damaged as the saucer section had been...but it was damaged enough to present a problem, in the event that they found themselves in another shoot-out with Armus. There were crewmen working on every junction, at every Engineering station imaginable. Most of them just in the Jefferies tubes or plasma relays. Out of the corner of his eye, Data spotted Wright hard at work, smacking his spengler wrench against a console at the other side of the hall. Deviating slightly from his course to where the stardrive section's sickbay was, Data approached Wright. Wright didn't notice the approach until the android was right behind him.

"Lieutenant," Data requested, "Would you walk with me?"

Wright jumped, and then turned, sighing deeply and running a hand through his short chestnut hair, which was thick with grime, soot, and debris.

"That depends, Master and Commander," he snapped, "Aren't you supposed to be on the bridge?"

"I have determined that your...observations...may have been more valid than I had originally believed," Data explained.

Wright was surprised, his jaw just slightly agape. He'd been working with machines for years - fixing them, cursing them, keeping them running smoothly at the expense of his own health, sleep, and sanity - but not once had he ever heard a machine tell him that it had been wrong. He'd never had a machine apologize to him before.

"Ah," Wright responded, nodding slowly, "Well...thank you." He set his tool kit down a moment, and watched his commander suspiciously. "So...we're not going to get ourselves blown up?"

"Not yet," Data explained, "I wish to consult Captain Maddox. But...I wish to apologize to you for having been so...stubborn. I am pleased that you are not afraid to voice your opinion, especially when you believe that a course of action that I have selected is not in the best interests of the ship and crew."

Wright smiled, lightly, and crossed his arms.

"Well...thank again, then," Wright mused, "Where are we headed?"

"Sickbay," Data responded.

"I thought you said we were going to see Maddox," Wright snapped, concern on his face.

"We are."

Wright paused, realizing the implication. He also realized that it had been Data, not Maddox, who had been standing on the Battle Bridge, barking orders. Data had referred to himself earlier as acting captain. It all seemed to indicate that Maddox had been, somehow...

"Let's move," Wright nodded, following closely behind Data as the android moved at a quick pace down the corridor. After passing several crewmen repairing a set of doors, and the plasma relays next to them, they came to a little junction to their right. Data turned, and Wright followed. After a few seconds, they found themselves at a set of doors. Data stepped forward, and the doors whooshed apart, revealing a chaotic, but steadily stabilizing, Sickbay within.

Lissa Cohl had already taken care of the worst cases. Most of them were either sedated, or had already...had already been lost. Altogether there were seventeen deaths, and fourteen major injuries. She hadn't had the room to keep all of them in one bay, so the dead had been moved to Cargo Bay Two, for the time being. It was a horrible thing to do...but the green-skinned Chief Medical Officer needed space for the patients who were still alive.

And for those, like Bruce Maddox, who she wasn't sure would live much longer.

Merrith Karn was standing at Maddox's side, running a dermal regenerator along the side of the Captain's head. The regenerator sealed the cut that had opened at the man's temple, and the only way one could tell he'd been injured now were the scorch marks on his uniform, and the dried brown blood at the side of his scalp, where the wound had been to begin with. Karn glanced up at Data and Wright, as they entered, and approached them.

"I'm sorry," Karn sighed, "But...I'm going to have to ask you two to leave, for now. We're trying everything we can...cortical stimulators, regenerators, everything. He seems to have gone into a comatose state...I don't know how long we can keep him stable."

Lissa approached from the other side of the room, leaving a patient she'd just finished work on, and approached the group of officers as well, moving to Karn's side.

Data couldn't help but watch Maddox. Maddox, despite the poor conditions of their first and second meetings, had become someone who Data considered a good, and trustworthy friend. He was not as close a friend as Geordi, or Commander Riker, for example...but he was still a friend. Maddox had been the man who had brought this crew together, and who had first determined that Earth was in crisis. The _Rorschach_ was his ship, and this mission had been Bruce's mission. Data felt...regret...that Maddox might not be able to see it through.

"Doctor Cohl, is there no way to stimulate consciousness?" Data asked, "Do you believe that he will wake again?"

"I don't know," Lissa groaned, "He's out, for now, though. Physically, he seems to be fine. It could just be a matter of time, Mister Data."

Data nodded, turning to leave when Lissa Cohl grabbed onto his shoulder, sharply.

"Commander," she sighed, "I don't know what happened out there...but from what I've heard, it could have been a lot worse. For what it's worth...thanks."

Data paused, glancing back at Bruce Maddox with genuine grief in his eyes. He frowned, and turned to Lissa with a look that betrayed just how conflicted he felt right now.

"Your thanks are appreciated," he acknowledged, "But I fear they may be misplaced."

Before Lissa could respond, Data had taken back to the corridor, and was moving to the Observation Lounge, with Wright still trailing behind him. Data glanced over his shoulder at the younger officer, who was still watching him curiously.

"Have junior officers relieve Mister Gallant and Lieutenant Chekov," Data ordered, "Assemble the Senior Staff in the Observation Lounge."

Wright nodded, and turned around, moving through the hallway towards the Battle Bridge. Without waiting a second more, Data stepped into the spacious Observation Lounge. Out its viewport, he could see the silhouette of the _Sutherland_'s drifting saucer section in the distance. He moved towards the head chair at the long table, the captain's chair, and he took his seat in it. It was his, rightfully. He felt, however, as if it were not one that he had truly earned, nor did he deserve. He watched the _Sutherland_ drift amid the gas clouds, and watched tiny pieces of debris and armor plating drift off the _Rorschach_'s hull and into space.

When Maddox had been injured, he'd managed to fend off Armus and the _Sutherland_. He'd pulled off, with help from Gallant, Chekov, and Wright, a plethora of reckless, foolhardy maneuvers that should have been impossible. Logically, none of them should be alive right now. Why? Data could have run for it. He could have taken the ship to warp. Instead, he'd opted for an engagement.

He'd allowed his personal feelings, his emotions, and his memories of Vagra II...of what Armus had done to Tasha, someone for whom he'd cared very, very deeply...to influence his command decisions, and to influence his work. Seventeen people were dead, and Captain Maddox was in critical condition. Data had saved the crew...along with most of the ship...but still did not feel nearly worthy enough of sitting in this chair, right now.

He'd seen Picard make a gesture before...one that expressed severe regret, grief, shame, frustration...many things, all in one simple movement. Never before had he employed it, and never before had he understood the reason for it. Data raised his hand over his face, covering his eyes, the palm of his hand against his white-gold skin. The palm hid his eyes from the world around him, the wreck of the _Sutherland_ outside, and the crisis that he now found himself right in the thick of.

They called it a face-palm. It was a most illogical, human gesture...but, strangely, it felt appropriate. Data sat in the orange glow of the gas clouds outside, face-palming, until the doors entered and he was joined by his senior staff.


	15. XV: Black

_Black_

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[**SPOILER ALERT! - If you don't want to spoil this chapter and its shocker ending for yourself, read this paragraph no further.**] Okay, before I go any further, I can already hear the whizzing of rotting tomatoes. In this chapter, I am aware that I have kind a great creative liberty, to the point of committing literary blasphemy. I also acknowledge that I am not the first to do so - the story Solitaire, which is a still-rather-difficult-to-find D/Y fic online, pitched a story where Armus and Tasha had become part of the same entity. While the concept of Solitaire did indeed help plant a creative seed in my mind, and while Solitaire is a terrific story, this is NOT Solitaire, nor do I plan on it following the same plot progression. Let he who is without literary or creative sin cast the first tomato. xD

There. So I just ruined the whole chapter for you. ^^ Sorry, y'all.

As usual...comments for the readers! Today, I have a response for Kaiba_Kun, who posted not one but TWO reviews to the chapters I posted in the last few days.

**Kaiba_Kun: I deeply and thoroughly regret having put you through a terribly cliffhanger ending on Chapter 12. No, really, I do. One of my readers is apparently a member of the Klingon High Council, and was angered at my most dishonorable and cruel chapter, which left him hanging as he waited to find out what happened to our heroes next. To speed the creative process along, he had a Bird of Prey decloak over my apartment. A crack team of Klingon marines broke in, tied me to my desk, and beat me into submission with sharp, pointy, and heavy objects until I had completed writing chapters 13 through 15. The Klingon High Council member was thus appeased, and left me at my desk writing more with this message: "DON'T DO IT AGAIN, OR ELSE!" So I won't. xD At least not as badly as I did with Chapter 12.**

Again, anybody else who wants a response needs only review this story to hear from li'l old me. Enjoy Chapter Fifteen!

* * *

There were several minutes of silence as the officers filed into the room. The first to enter were Chekov and Gallant, clearly having gotten the message from Wright, and having been relieved of their individual stations. The next wave that filed into the room were Karn and Cohl, who were followed closely behind by Wright, who stepped into the room just a few seconds after the other two. All of them were showing wear and tear from the stand-off with the _Sutherland_.

Cohl's normally bright blue tunic was stained with deep, dark bloody marks, from having dealt first-hand with the injured. Karn's jumpsuit, which was mostly black with blue shoulders, mirrored her appearance, and Data knew that the blood on Karn's tunic was all Maddox's. The thought didn't especially reassure the android right now. Wright's uniform was in tatters, burnt, and covered in ash, soot, grime, dirt, and everything else the engineer had come into contact with in Engineering, and in the Jefferies tubes. The two who seemed to be least harmed were Tatiyana and Gallant, though Gallant's jumpsuit had become torn and shredded where his prosthetic, steely arms had been stretching against the fabric as his hands had been flying across the helm.

Even despite their physical appearances, their faces marred with soot, sweat, and blood, and the hardships that Data knew each of them had experienced, it was clear from their faces that they didn't seem especially hopeful right now. How could they? They had embarked on what was sure to be a one-week mission, following neutrino emisions and tracking a spatial anomaly that was headed towards Earth. None of them suspected for a minute that they'd have ended up under fire from a friendly starship, piloted by one of the most malevolent beings encountered in the confines of the known galaxy.

Not once had Data considered the possibility that the _Sutherland_ had survived, or that Armus had been hiding in the Pavel Nebula. No one could have seen it coming. That didn't make him feel any less like a fool right now, though.

The fact of the matter was that the crew's morale was slipping. They were without a captain. Their mission was falling out of reach, out of their grasp. They were still almost a full crew, but they were only half a ship, now. A damaged half. Chances were fair that their mission would fail. Data realized, however, that this was not an option. They were still the only ship on the trail of the neutrino emissions, and Starfleet would not send another until it was too late. Maddox had been certain that what had attacked the other worlds, and ravaged them, was on its way to Earth. Data had faith in Maddox, as a friend, and had faith in this mission. If Maddox was really gone, then Data would have to see this mission to fruition himself.

_Especially _if Maddox was gone.

"I am pleased that you have joined me," Data began, seated in the Captain's chair, with Tatiyana and Gallant on his right, and the other three on his left. "I wish to make it clear, before proceeding any further, that each of you has been faced with extremely challenging and demanding circumstances. Each of you rose to meet those individual challenges, and the end result is that we, as a crew, still remain alive and functional." He paused, glancing at each of them individually, as each of them had contributed, in their own way, to the survival of the ship. "If Captain Maddox were present, based on the Captain's standards, as well as observations on his regard for each of you, I extrapolate that he would have been especially...proud of how each of you carried yourselves, in this crisis."

There were soft smiles, and congratulatory glances between the officers, but not all of them looked especially...receptive to the words of praise. Cohl looked downtrodden, and Karn looked equally concerned. There was also something unnerving in the way that Tatiyana was watching Data, now, her gaze unwavering.

"Commander," Cohl asked, glancing up, "What happened? One minute, we were on a course into the nebula, and the next...we were taking casualties."

"And, Commander," Tatiyana interrupted, glancing quizzically at her superior, "Vith all due respect...I think ve vould all like to know a little bit more about the Armus creature, from Starbase Thirty-Four."

Now, all eyes in the room were on him. Data knew he was going to have to explain, but wasn't looking forward to the ugly tale this was bound to be.

"The _Sutherland_," he explained, starting his explanation to Cohl, "Was taken over near Vagra II by an entity known as Armus. It has seized control of the ship and is using its telepathic and telekinetic abilities to manipulate the crew. Armus and the _Sutherland_, I suspect, were the cause of the destruction of Starbase Thirty-Four."

"Then I guess we didn't get off too badly after all," Karn chuckled dryly, trying to lighten the mood in the room. Wright and Gallant grinned, but Tatiyana still seemed deeply concerned.

"We were ambushed by the _Sutherland_ in the nebula," Data explained, "After it crippled our navigational beacons, and destroyed the _USS Soyuz_ to lure us further in."

"Wait," Wright interrupted, "You mean _the_ navigational beacons? The ones we fired so we wouldn't end up off course?"

Data nodded.

"That is correct."

Wright leaned back in his chair, and glanced over at Karn. The two of them shared a look of bewilderment, and horror.

"It took me hours to plot that trajectory," Karn sighed, "Even from outside the nebula. Now...it might take us days to get out, let alone to reach the source of the neutrino emissions."

Data paused, considering the possibility.

"Nevertheless," Data explained, glancing steely at Karn, "We must continue the mission. And we must make retrieving what navigational data we can our science department's priority."

"Understood," Karn nodded.

"When the _Sutherland_ attacked us," Data continued, "Our shields were disabled, leaving us at a disadvantage. We were able to...tilt the odds," he explained, "With timely assistance from a well-placed torpedo."

Tatiyana blushed a moment, under the praise, but still didn't take her worried gaze off her superior officer.

"All that remains of the _Sutherland_ is her saucer section, which is adrift," Data explained, motioning out the viewport.

"But that still doesn't tell us about Armus," Tatiyana accused, "Or about your history vith the creature, Commander."

Data paused. Obviously, Tatiyana wasn't impressed about something.

"Armus," Data explained, "Is a creature I encountered on an Away Team while serving aboard the _USS Enterprise_. He took two of our crewmen hostage. When our Chief of Security, Natasha Yar, attempted to rescue the hostages, the creature killed her as a demonstration of its power. It manipulated us against each other, attacked Commander Riker, and, had it not been for the timely efforts of Counselor Troi and Captain Picard, the situation would have ended much worse."

He paused, trying to ensure that he didn't give too much away. He didn't want the crew to believe he'd become emotionally compromised. But...that was why he'd brought them together in the first place, wasn't it? It was logical to get all of it out, to put all of the cards on the table. Hopefully...they would provide him an insight that, in his current emotional state, he found himself lacking.

"I have called you here at this time because I seek guidance," Data explained, "If there is a way that we can rescue the ninety-three crewmen aboard the _Sutherland_, and free them from Armus' control...I would believe that to be ideal. However...I fear, as well, that contact with that crew might result in exposing our own crew to Armus. Armus is a creature who was quarantined to the world of Vagra II. It is malevolent, violent, and vindictive. One cannot deal with Armus in the same manner that one deals with a rational being. We may be forced to destroy the _Sutherland_...and everyone aboard...to prevent further spread of the contamination."

Data was about to continue when Tatiyana scoffed.

"Is there something wrong, Lieutenant?"

"I vos there, Commander," Tatiyana snapped, "On the Battle Bridge. The _Sutherland_ vos crippled. She vos disabled, incapable of fighting back. For a moment, you vere going to order me to fire...to destroy that ship. I vos sairtain of it."

"As I stated," Data repeated, "We may be required to destroy the _Sutherland_ to maintain quarantine."

"Vith all due respect, Meestur Data," Tatiyana spoke, her voice rising, "You don't vant to maintain _anything_. You vanted to destroy that wessel, because you vanted to destroy Armus."

"His destruction would be preferable," Data interrupted, "To the destruction of this ship and this crew. Our mission is, I remind you, of the utmost importance."

"Commander, I believe that your judgement is clouded," Tatiyana finished, coming to the grand conclusion of her argument, speaking that which she'd been waiting to speak since she'd walked into the lounge. Karn, Cohl, Wright, and Gallant all watched her for a moment, but one by one they turned to Data, waiting for his response.

"You are correct," Data answered. The senior staff at this point weren't quite certain what to think - Wright was rolling his eyes, Karn and Cohl were exchanging glances worriedly, and Gallant was thinking over everything he'd just heard. Tatiyana seemed amazed that Data had agreed with her. "I have asked you here because I wish to hear options...suggestions. I do not wish to make my final decision without consulting you all. Captain Maddox had a great deal of faith in you...and I do, as well. I am confident that...together...we will still have the capacity to rescue the _Sutherland_'s remaining crew, and complete our mission with sufficient time to save Earth."

The staff turned to one another, smiling and nodding. Not surprisingly, Tatiyana was the first to speak.

"I have an idea, Commander," she smiled, relieved that Data was being as reasonable as he was about all of this, "Portable force-field generators. We can bring them aboard, isolate crew members, and cut off Armus from the remainder of the ship."

"Armus cannot be contained," Data explained, "However, your first idea has merit. Containing crew members, and finding a way to isolate them from Armus' control - for example, beaming them to the _Rorschach_ - might be sufficient to break Armus' control over them. I assign you to create and distribute as many of the portable generators to as many away teams as you can. I will lead the party to the _Sutherland_, and you will accompany me as my second."

Tatiyana beamed proudly, with that famous, Russian, Chekov smile.

"Aye, keptin!"

Data turned back to Karn.

"Mister Karn," he continued, "You will work with Mister Gallant to determine the best trajectory out of the Pavel Nebula. I expect results within the next two hours - which, given the nature of both of your unique talents, is not unreasonable."

Karn sighed, deeply, knowing that it was a challenge...but relishing the chance, at the same time.

"I'll do what I can," Karn responded.

Data glanced over to the back of the left-hand side of the table, where Wright was sitting on his own, looking as grumpy and stand-offish as he usually did.

"Mister Wright," Data called, "You are a proficient engineer. Complete repairs to the main power grid and to any other damaged systems. After you have finished, assist Lieutenant Chekov with the construction of the portable force-field generators."

"Not like I have a choice," Wright sighed, "Alright, I'll do it."

Last, but certainly not least, Data turned his glance to Cohl, who still looked as bothered as she had when she'd stepped into the lounge in the first place.

"Ensign Cohl," Data spoke, "You must keep watch over Captain Maddox. In the meantime...tend to the injured crewmen, and begin to arrange a ceremony tomorrow morning, at 0900 hours, for the dead. I will prepare messages for each of the families, and will assist you in whatever capacity I can once I have completed the away mission to the _Sutherland_."

Cohl nodded solemnly, blinking back tears.

"Aye, sir," she whispered.

Data took one last look at the group of them. The way they sat, they way they watched him, reminded him of all of the meetings the senior staff on the _Enterprise_ had held, when Captain Picard had sat in the same place that Data occupied now. The officers were pre-occupied with loss - the loss of half the ship, and the loss of Captain Maddox. This meeting had the same awkward, grieving feel that had filled the room during the meeting that Picard had called after Tasha had been killed on Vagra II. Data couldn't help but remember the way that the crew had bickered, the way they had fought among themselves, arguing over why it had happened, or what had to be done about Armus.

At the time, Data had found himself sitting at the far side of the table, simply recalling the events that had transpired, as his positronic brain tried to register, through its own disbelief, that Tasha was _gone_. Really, truly gone. That she wasn't coming back...that, despite her familiarity to him, despite the way he had become accustomed to seeing her, if only for a few brief minutes each day on the bridge...she was gone. All of the possibilities and extrapolations and might-have-beens were suddenly terminated, and Data had found himself a great deal...lonelier...than he had been before.

Picard had brought the meeting to order. His voice had brought order and sense to the chaos around him. In the same way, Data knew he had to be with the crew now, as they made their way on with Maddox in a comatose state. They had no guarantee that the Captain was coming back...ever. In some ways, that was worse than death...worse, because of the uncertainty of it all.

"Captain Maddox," Data spoke, "Would want each and every one of you to perform your duties to the best of your abilities. He would be proud of the manner in which you have conducted yourselves thus far. I am certain that...that we will prevail. This mission is the dream of one man...one Captain Bruce Maddox. If we allow this mission to fail...then that dream, and that one man's hope, will be lost. For Earth, but also for Captain Maddox, we must succeed. And I have confidence that each and every one of you will succeed. Dismissed."

The senior staff were smiling now, and their hearts were confident, ready, strong. Now was their time to stand, now was their time to act. They would step out those doors, and they would face the challenges that came their way not for themselves, but for Maddox. For this ship. For his dream.

As Data sat, the others rose from their seats, but no sooner had they done so than a voice filled the room.

A deep voice.

A dark voice.

A voice that echoed through their heads, into their hearts. It was a voice that rasped, and hacked, and coughed, a voice that almost seemed to slither, like a thick, runny ooze.

"_How very touching, Tin Man,_" it sneered, "_If I didn't know better, I'd think there was a heart beating in that synthetic chest of yours."_

The senior staff, especially Tatiyana, glanced around frantically, searching for the source of the noise. There was none. Without a second thought, Data tapped his commbadge and stood from the chair, his eyes sharp and focused.

"Data to Security, intruder alert!" he snapped. The commbadge didn't respond, but turned black, runny, and wet, and began to fall down his uniform front. Data glanced around the room, and noticed the same thing happening to the other senior staff. Each of them continued to glance around, seeking the source of the sound.

The blue shimmering of a transporter beam filled the rear of the room, and Data realized immediately what had happened. They had moved into range of the _Sutherland_ which, though defenseless, still had an active transporter system. The _Rorschach_'s shields had been down. It was such a simple, rudimentary mistake, and Data was ashamed that he had made it. He was capable of 60 quadrillion computations a minute, and he'd missed the fact that they'd practically flown up to the _Sutherland_ with a bright, red, neon "Enter here!" sign posted over the _Rorschach_.

The form of the being materializing was terrible to behold, for the senior staff of the _Rorschach_, but Data knew it well. In the seventeen logged nightmares he'd witnessed in his dream program, this creature was part of twelve. This was the creature who'd killed Hobbes, who had destroyed Starbase Thirty-Four, who had hijacked the _Sutherland._

But more than these...much more...this was the creature who had killed Natasha Yar. Data's hands clenched into fists as the creature came into focus.

Wright, reactively, raised a phaser from his hip and fired a continuous orange beam into the creature's slimy black hide. Armus simply stood, motionless, little black flecks of ooze dripping off it onto the ground.

"_That gets very tiresome after awhile_," Armus mused, "_But at the moment, it only tickles. Move a little to the right, Wright._"

Wright paused, whirling around to glance in confusion at Data.

"It...knows my name," he whispered, in terror. The phaser had been set to its highest intensity - the creature should have been vaporized. What was this monster, and why had it come aboard?

"_I know all of your names_," it hissed, "_And I know them well. I have watched you, from the bridge of my ship. You have left me in a most difficult position, Tin Man. I am not pleased with you...no, not pleased at all._"

Data stepped forward, glancing at each of the senior staff.

"Leave us," he spoke, softly, "Arm yourselves."

"_Oh, no,_" Armus cackled, "_Leave, and I will kill him._"

"You are likely to kill me either way," Data argued.

"_Not yet,_" Armus interrupted, "_I have...a proposition._"

Data paused, not wanting to so much as speak with the creature, but Armus was aboard his ship. Quarantine had been breached. If Data didn't settle this now, Armus had the potential to kill or manipulate everything aboard. Data would not allow that to happen.

"Speak," Data commanded.

"_Say please,_" Armus snickered.

"I will not play this game with you again," Data snapped, approaching the creature angrily, "You will speak, or you will remove yourself from my vessel."

"_Such passion, such anger,_" Armus mused, "_You are far more amusing this way, Tin Man. I wonder what your woman would have thought of you, like this?_"

Data's eyes widened for a moment, and then his face twisted into a frown. He was not about to let himself be manipulated by Armus, but he was also not about to reveal his emotional hand to the entire bridge crew.

"Be silent," Data hissed.

"_She found you rather cold, in life,_" Armus laughed, "_I think she would have found this slightly more...attractive, in you, Tin Man. All that emotion, all that feeling...it's a nice change._"

Wright was glancing back and forth between the two of them, outright confused. Tatiyana was intrigued, and concerned for the safety of her commanding officer, so she found herself adjusting the settings on her phaser as well, and signalling to Gallant. She and Gallant each took a strategic position, flanking the black, ooze-like creature in case something went wrong. Cohl had backed away to the rear of the room in horror, and Karn had his tricorder up, trying to understand the readings that were coming in from the creature. They didn't seem to make any sense at all.

"State your proposition," Data ordered.

"_You entertain me,_" Armus sneered, "_So I'll tell you. You are following neutrino emissions. I am following neutrino emissions. Allow me to join you, and I will show you the way out of this nebula._"

Data paused, in disbelief. The offer didn't make any sense. Armus didn't want to help them - it was a self-serving, destructive, vengeful creature. It wouldn't make an offer like this unless it thought it had something to gain.

"Why?" Data asked, "What would there logically be in such an arrangement to benefit you?"

"_My ship lacks warp drive_," Armus explained, "_And...I tire. Control of so many humans at once is...exhausting. I must conserve my strength for when we reach the others._"

"Others?" Data asked, curiously.

Armus laughed, aloud, moving closer to Data. Tatiyana and Wright raised their weapons, but Data waved them down.

"Explain," Data requested.

"_The neutrino emissions..._" Armus explained, "_They are from a race that, in your tongue, you would call the Shining Ones. The beings whose beauty dazzles all. It was they who abandoned me, when they left for distant planes. I was left...alone...by those who had shed me off, as a second, lesser skin. I seek them."_

Data paused, watching Armus closely.

"For what reason?" he inquired.

"_That is my business,_" Armus, "_But, I assure you, you and your precious ship will not be harmed, Tin Man. I want passage. If you will grant it to me, I will become as one of you until we arrive. I must rest. I can hear the Shining Ones...I can sense them. I will take you to them, so that you might save your precious Earth._"

Cohl coughed from the far side of the room. For whatever reason, she was attempting right now not to gag. She found Armus' appearance to be nothing short of repulsing. The rest of the senior staff agreed.

"I will consider your request," Data answered. "For now, return to your ship - "

He was interrupted by Wright, who was stomping around the room, now, trying to scrape black slime off the bottom of his boot.

"Damn, damn, damn!" he growled, "Can't that thing keep itself in one piece? I'm going to be cleaning this out of ventilation ducts for weeks!"

Armus laughed, and approached Wright slightly.

"_I find your insolence amusing, Engineer,_" it sneered, "_But...perhaps I should consider your request. If I am to be with you, for a time, it makes sense that I should select a slightly more...pleasing form._" It cackled again, now moving a little bit closer to Data, who recoiled slightly. There was a look of fear in Data's eyes, genuine fear the likes of which he hadn't experienced since Soran's laboratory at the Amargosa Observatory.

"No," he whispered, shuddering in terror and backing away slightly, "No, please, do not..."

"_Come now, Tin Man,_" Armus persisted, "_You of all people should find this form...pleasant, to those pretty yellow eyes of yours._"

Data shook his head slightly, one last time, but it was too little too late. The senior staff watched in fascination as the pools of black that had been oozing out in a radius from Armus' form all seemed to double back, as if rejoining with Armus' form, collecting its mass together. And then, the mass shifted. The black, slimy, sludgy form of Armus gave way to a more streamlined, thinner, lithe frame. The creature's waist thinned out, its chest grew out, its forearms grew delicate, feminine hands, and its proportions became that of an adult, human female.

"Do not!" Data cried out, gritting his teeth together.

Armus neglected to comply. Once more, the creature shifted. Its smooth black form changed, replacing its black hands with pink flesh, human fingers, and long nails. Up its arms, in a wave, black fabric began to take form, clothing over bare human skin, until it reached the shoulders. There, the clothing began to take a more precise form. At the shoulders, the clothing became golden, and the gold cloth ran down to about Armus' collarbone. Black fabric flourished beneath, spreading along where smooth black liquid had previously made up the young woman's breasts, and waist, and hips, down her legs to her ankles, where the clothing ended. Armus' feet took the form of human feet, inside a pair of standard-issue Starfleet boots. The uniform was now recognizable as the jumpsuit of a Starfleet Operations-Division officer.

A security officer, Data realized.

The most striking part of the change, though, took place when the black fluid along Armus' neck began to change form. Soft, flesh-tone human skin, coursed up to its chin, and then further up, producing a pair of full lips, caressed by a dark-shaded red lipstick. The transformation continued, claiming more of Armus' black liquid face, replacing it with the soft, feminine features of a young woman. Around her eyes there was a trace of black eye-shadow, and her eyes themselves were haunting to Data in their familiarity, with the exception of the pupils. Where before, there had been blue eyes, there was now only black. Deep, dark black. Short blond hair sprouted and grew, and within another split-second, Data was staring at the spitting image of a ghost.

"Well," Wright observed, giving the new lass a general look-over, "Nasty little bastard, that thing was, but, damn, did it ever clean up nicely..."

The woman stepped forward, as Data recoiled slightly in shock. The senior staff watched the scene with confusion on their faces, not completely sure why the appearance of this new face seemed to be daunting him so. The woman approached Data, coming within an inch's distance of him, glancing up into his gold eyes with her black ones. Despite himself, Data found himself staring back. He knew this couldn't be her, it wasn't possibly her, but he'd imagined staring into her eyes like this for so long that he couldn't help -

No. No, this wasn't real. This was a trick. This was all just a trick.

The woman didn't give him time to act on that distinction. She reached her arms up around his neck, sensually, and glanced up at him as she licked her lips seductively. Her warm, caressing breath was on his face as she smiled, leaning up so that her lips were only millimeters away from his.

"All I'm saying," she whispered, her voice soft, sweet, and singsong, "Is that I have half a ship...you have half a ship. If we put our respective halves together, Mister Data...slide those magnetic interlocks back in, right where they belong...I think you might find our alliance would give you more than just a tactical advantage. Think about it..."

The double meaning in her words was not missed, not by a long shot. Data froze for a second, but then grasped her hands and removed them from his neck. He turned, and stepped with haste towards the door.

"I'll be waiting right here for your answer," she called out to him, laughing lightly but cruelly as she watched him scurry away uncomfortably, "But I must admit I'm a little disappointed. After all these years, Mister Data, I thought you'd be happier to see me!"

Data paused at the door, which whooshed open as he stood close to it.

"Lieutenant Chekov, please assume command," he ordered, "Empty the room and erect a level-nine forcefield around the doors. I require time to regenerate."

Before Tatiyana had a chance to rebut, Data had started an angry, hastened march down the corridors of the _Rorschach_, trying to ignore the girlish, almost manic giggles of the monstrosity that he'd left behind in the Observation Lounge.

"Eweryvun out," Chekov commanded, watching the woman with blond hair carefully, as the others began to file out of the lounge. She was, after a few seconds, the last one left in the room with the woman the creature had become. She paused, staring at it curiously. "You are Armus," Tatiyana observed. "Aren't you?"

"Observant, but...not exactly. I was Armus, and I will be again," the woman smiled, warmly, approaching Tatiyana, "But...as for who I am...well, Armus sounds so...tacky in this form, don't you think?"

"And vhat exactly vould you prefer ve call you?" Tatiyana asked, raising an eyebrow.

The young, blond woman laughed.

"Tasha," the woman smiled, "Just call me Tasha."


	16. XVI: White

_White_

Data returned to his quarters, and let the door whoosh shut behind him. Tatiyana would take charge, and would be capable of keeping the _Rorschach_ in one piece while he took the time he needed to make up his mind, to come to a decision based on the offer that Armus had made.

Armus. Not Tasha. Armus. He had to remember that, and remember that well, despite all appearances.

Data acknowledged, deep down, that the decision had absolutely nothing to do with his less-than strategic retreat from the Observation Lounge. Armus had known just what to do to push his buttons, to rile him. Data had allowed the creature the satisfaction of having placed him in an extremely uncomfortable position. For the time being, he would find some way to occupy himself until he could logically, and objectively, look at the offer that the creature had made him. He would take a seat at his desk, in his quarters, and he would go over the latest reports from Engineering on the damage done to the _Rorschach_'s main power grid. Perhaps he, the acting captain, would even go out and give Wright's teams a hand with the repairs.

The ideas, the possibilities, and all of the means by which Data could distract himself from what had just occured flew by, and he found that his feet were glued to the floor. He couldn't walk, couldn't move. His emotion chip and his positronic brain were overloading, trying desperately to register the events of the last several minutes. Data let out a long, exasperated sigh, and then finally, after several moments of replaying the scene in the lounge, he stepped towards his desk. He circled it, pulled out the chair, and sat.

He considered activating his ethical self-diagnostic program, but thought better of it. The last thing that he needed right now was to see another fake, another imitation of the woman that he had known. No, rather, what he wanted right now was the comfort of seeing the real Tasha Yar again. He wanted to see her, as she had been in life. He reached into the desk drawer nearby for the holoprojector that perpetually housed her image, her likeness. He frowned, when it was not found in its usual place.

He glanced around the floor of his quarters, and spotted it about three feet away. Part of the housing was cracked, as it had no doubt fallen down during the attack by the _Sutherland_. He placed it on the desk, as he always did when he wished to activate it, to reflect on Tasha's last recorded image. He flicked the power switch, activating the power cells and the projectors.

Where the image of Tasha had always been previously, now there was only noise. White noise. Static. Hissing. Nothingness. Data, after a few seconds, flicked it off. He paused, stared at the now hollow device, and frowned, growing tense. He picked up the device, stared at it a second, and then, with his teeth gritted, he slammed it down onto the desk, cracking the casing even further.

"No!" he snarled, his golden eyes wild as he smashed the device tirelessly against the surface of the desk, "No, no, no, no, NO!" With each word, there was another strike, and more little fractures bit through the surface of the holoprojector itself. At the last strike, the device shattered into dozens of tiny fragments, flying across the room and landing on the floor. Data stared at the shards in his hand, and his emotion chip projected, within him, the sensation of a sinking heart.

He sat in the silence for a moment, leaning back in his chair, and feeling, as was quite normal, alone. But...without being able to turn on that one, single hologram...without being able to hear her last message, any longer...there would be silence. There would be quiet, a quiet that Data did not want right now. There were too many things running through his positronic brain right now, too many worries, and all that the silence was doing was making those worries louder.

Data buried his face in his hands, leaning over the desk, which was freshly dented from the multiple impacts of the projector, and Data's fist. He could not stay here much longer...he had to find something with which to occupy himself. Something constructive...something relaxing. Something that would soothe the rattled nerves, metaphorically speaking, of course, that the confrontation with Armus had produced.

* * *

Tatiyana Chekov had proceeded to the Acting Captain's quarters immediately after having assigned a full security detail to the exterior of the Observation Lounge. From what she knew of Armus, a security detail, no matter how well-armed, would only be an annoyance to the creature, not a threat. The day's events had been growing stranger and stranger, and Commander Data's speedy departure from the Observation Lounge had been no exception to that rule. Yes, Armus had behaved in a rather...provocative...manner, but generally the sort of things wouldn't even have fazed Data. Tatiyana had a feeling that whoever the girl was that Armus had become...she was someone significant.

Armus had kept talking to Data about another woman, about someone he knew. Someone who would have liked him better with emotions, someone Data knew before. Tasha...why was the name Tasha so familiar? Why did it seem to call to mind something that Data had said earlier, about the creature Armus and about Vagra II? What was the connection?

Tatiyana paused in mid-step, coming to a dead half in the corridor. She was halfway between the Observation Lounce, and Data's quarters. She raised a hand to her mouth, realizing the significance of the name, and realizing exactly why Data had reacted so violently. Natasha Yar...that was the name of the _Enterprise_ security officer who'd been killed on Vagra II. Something still didn't add up, though...something was still missing. Why had Data reacted so violently, when Armus had draped herself across him, unless - ?

"Oh," Tatiyana muttered, soberly, realizing immediately the implication. Data and Tasha weren't just fellow crew members, or fellow senior officers. There was something more, there. Something...intimate. Something that had scared the life out of Data when he'd realized that the creature was going to assume her form. Tatiyana realized just how badly Armus was capable of manipulating her commanding officer...and that frightened her a lot. It suddenly made the job of ship's security chief a lot more difficult. She shook the thoughts away, and continued down the corridor, coming to Data's quarters after about another minute's walk. She was about to step in front of the door, and sound the chime, when she heard a crash.

Slowly, but surely, she pressed her ear to the wall against Data's room, and heard the sound again, repeatedly. Crashing, accompanied at each steady, dirge-like beat with a cry. She bit down on her lower lip, suddenly feeling a great deal worse, emotionally, for her acting captain and android friend. She paused, a few seconds, considering whether she should step inside or not.

It turned out she wouldn't have to make the choice. Data stepped out, his face as stoic and as composed as ever. His eyes, though...there was something wrong with his eyes. Something forlorn...something absent.

"Lieutenant Chekov," Data remarked, acknowledging her presence, "How may I assist you?"

"Oh, keptin," she muttered, hurriedly, trying not to be caught having observed him, "I vanted to inform you that I have posted a full security team at the Obserwation Lounge. The wessel is secure, keptin."

"Excellent," Data answered. "I have made my decision. We shall reintegrate the saucer section of the _Sutherland_ with the stardrive section of the _Rorschach_, and I will approve Armus' request. But...I require a slight period of regeneration before resuming diplomatic relations with the creature."

Tatiyana nodded, glancing away.

"Yes, keptin," she mumbled. "Vill that be all?"

Data paused, cocking his head slightly and softening his eyes.

"No," he admitted, softly, "There is one more matter."

Tatiyana glanced up at him, worriedly.

"Yes, keptin?"

Data swallowed, and half-smiled at the Russian security chief.

"May I borrow your balalayka?"

* * *

"Tasha", the nearly omnipotent being formerly known as Armus, was frustrated. She could hear, for the most part, the thoughts, the despair, and the emotions of the crew aboard the inferior, human vessel. True, she did require their aid with passage to the Shining Ones, and required their aid in completing her mission, but they were, as usual, proving to be more a nuisance than a source of entertainment.

Oh, she had been thrilled when Data had stormed out of the room. She'd gotten just the rise out of him that she'd intended to. She'd asserted herself, and had proved right there, right on the spot, that she was stronger than him, capable of controlling and manipulating him. It had all...amused her, so very much.

But then, all of the officers had gone. All of them had left. And in this feeble form, behind a forcefield, she was incapable of breaking her way free. She'd said she'd wait for the Tin Man to make his decision, and return. What she hadn't counted on was that while she knew the thoughts of every creature on this wretched hulk, she didn't know his. His positronic brain was different. The thoughts that came from it were garbled nonsense. He was silent, to her.

He intrigued her, as a result, but also frightened her. She would be able to prepare for him, if she knew that he was planning to deny the request. What if he attacked her? In this state, she had made herself far more vulnerable than usual...but, ultimately, the fact of the matter was that she needed this ship. She needed to reach the Shining Ones. She needed to have her revenge. For that...she needed to rest, and allow her abilities to recharge, for a time. She needed for Data to say "yes".

She was alone. She hated being alone. She hated the quiet, the absence of the others, the absence of any others. She wanted...she wanted contact. She wanted to hear the voices of the others, again...to dance with them, again. The Shining Ones...damn them all. She wouldn't be able to stand exile again.

This waiting was torturous...if only she knew what the android were thinking. If only she knew what the android had on his mind...

* * *

Tatiyana had delivered the balalayka to her commanding officer swiftly, and then had gone back to the Security division office to monitor the inside of the Observation Lounge, as well as the doors outside of it, where her guards were posted. Tatiyana, instinctively, already didn't like Armus. She didn't like the creature, didn't like the way she'd goaded Data into an uncomfortable situation, and didn't like the way that the creature now pretty well had them by the short and curlies. She frowned, sat at her desk, and keyed in her access codes, bringing up material from the internal sensors.

The form of Tasha Yar, the form that Armus had assumed, was pacing back and forth, along the length of the Observation Lounge's table, like a caged animal. She kept watching the door, as if waiting for someone to walk through. Every once in awhile, she'd look outside, in frustration, as if trying to distract herself. It was a behaviour that Tatiyana had observed, more than once, from prisoners of the ship's brig. She found it rather curious that Armus, a creature so powerful, was displaying the same symptoms now.

At the same time, though, Tatiyana felt a sick sort of satisfaction.

_Serves her right_.

Trying to take herself away from the vindictive train of thought, Tatiyana brought up, on a second computer screen, all the files that the _Rorschach_ had in its libraries on Armus, on the Vagra II mission, and on Lieutenant Natasha Yar. The Lieutenant's records were impressive, and Tatiyana found herself in slight awe - Tasha was the kind of security officer who Tatiyana herself had always dreamed of becoming. She envied the fact that Tasha had served on the _Enterprise_ - because of her family history, Tatiyana had always dreamed of one day gaining a post on a ship of the name _Enterprise_, herself. Just like her great-grandfather Pavel had.

Nowhere in the records, though, was there any sign, or any one fact that seemed to back up her theory. Nothing that seemed to support her suspicion that Data and Tasha had, in fact, been in any way, shape or form intimately connected. She was about to throw up her hands in frustration, and return to watching the security monitors when she noticed a name in the appendices of Tasha Yar's file.

_Bruce Maddox_.

* * *

Data sat in the silence, for a long time, simply looking at the instrument. He wasn't sure whether he was trying to better understand it, whether he was reflecting on it, or whether he was admiring the workmanship. For some reason, he couldn't bring himself to play it. He moved to his desk, and opened up a library of all the great works that an instrument of this nature would have been compatible with, everything from contemporary songs to the classics. Nothing quite seemed to fit, though. Nothing seemed to work.

He sat, in the darkness, the dim lights of the computer terminal the only thing illuminating his quarters, when he finally strummed a minor chord. After that, what happened was beyond any given pre-determined pattern or pre-determined progression of chords, and merely an expression, an extension of Data's emotion chip and positronic brain firing in tandem. His hands moved across the neck and the base of the instrument itself with the same precision he'd handled it with in the mess hall earlier, and before he knew it, the chords structured themselves into a sort of helter-skelter tune.

The song was quiet, at its beginning, and then it faded to an even quieter whisper. What followed were a series of notes and two-note chords, that he plucked individually as he closed his eyes in a silent reflection. Who he could see and what he could see were a mystery - but, given the nature of the song, and it's sound, it was obvious what had caught the android's attention. It was a slow song, a lament, dominated by minor chords singing out a mournful dirge.

It was a song, forming in his positronic brain, to fit a series of images. A simple theme, a metaphor for the conflicted, frantic feelings running through his mind. Images that he'd watched play out over and over again over the last seven years were resurfacing, with an intensity and a persistence that his positronic brain was ill-equipped to handle. He had a crew relying on him, and he had friends here who needed him...he couldn't afford to show any of the weakness himself that he was allowing the song to express instead.

He set the intrument down at the song's conclusion, just in time for his communicator to trill.

"_Chekov to Keptin,"_ a familiar, feminine Russian voice called out, "_Ve may have a slight problem._"

* * *

"Tasha" sat in the silence, pacing, growing more and more frustrated by the minute. What was taking that damned android so long? It wasn't rocket science - did he want her half of the ship, or didn't he? She was obviously the navigator they needed, and she was, at the moment, logically their best shot at saving Earth. She didn't understand how a rational being, especially one as logical and as calculating as Data, could -

Logical.

Calculating.

Emotionless.

These were traits that Armus had always associated with the Tin Man, from the moment they'd met on Vagra II. As for the woman that Armus had drained, Tasha, she had always found him to be these very same things...with an emphasis on the third adjective. Emotionless. She had been good enough friends, with the android, and after the Psi 2000 virus incident, they had still managed to salvage a good, working relationship. Truth be told, she'd always been rather drawn to him. The thought, though, that the android was only following pre-programmed responses, when he had been with her...even during their intimacy...it was something that had unnerved her. And yet, there had always been something about Data that gave hints, inklings, that there might be something more to him. He was a machine. Despite that, Tasha - not the "Tasha" form, but the drained, stored consciousness of Tasha Yar - had always wondered if he was capable of becoming more.

Evidently, he had. And this troubled Armus, or "Tasha", very deeply. Tin Man had emotions, now. That meant the logic or reason in her offer that would have made securing passage to the Shining Ones a simple matter was now complicated. What if the android decided not to grant her passage? What if he beamed her back to her own ship? She was vulnerable, right now...her powers were weak right now. The control she'd exerted over the crew of the _Sutherland_ had drained her.

...and if Data sent her back to the _Sutherland_, she wouldn't be able to manage it again. The crew would be out for blood...her blood. They would probably tear her apart.

She'd broken an android's synthetic heart, and now had unknowingly placed her life in his hands. This was not at all how she had intended for things to proceed.

It was maddening...it was maddening, and frustrating, and aggravating having to wait like this. It wasn't right. It wasn't fair. She had been abandoned by the Shining Ones, left to scavenge for herself, to survive, to make a life for herself on a desolate, remote, lifeless planet. She'd had to spend days in the tunnels, learning to avoid the rape gangs, and -

"Tasha" paused, rather disturbed. That last memory...that last memory was not her own. It was one she recognized from the memories of the human female, Tasha she had absorbed on Vagra II...but why had the memory become so intertwined with her own? What was it doing in her own consciousness? It didn't make any sense. It didn't make any sense at all.

"Tasha" continued to pace, her breaths growing more and more ragged. If she didn't get the android's answer soon, damnit, she was going to -

And then she heard something. She could hear through her limited telepathic powers, though weakened by her earlier efforts, the voices and the sounds of each man and woman aboard. She could sense their thoughts, their life forces. She couldn't sense the android. But...there was a new sound, entering an otherwise chaotic chorus of voices. The sound of strings, of an instrument. Music. It brought her peace, for a moment...tranquility, for a moment...but the longer the song went on, the worse it felt.

The song was sad, and lost, and lonely. The song was making it worse - the feelings of abandonment, frustration, of powerlessness. She hated not being in control...and right now, her fate seemed to be in everybody's hands but hers. Damn the Tin Man. Damn this crew. Damn them all!

Especially..._them_. She had to reach the Shining Ones. She had to make them pay, make them suffer. They couldn't imagine what the years had done to her...they couldn't understand. None of them could. None of them could understand, like she did.

Without so much as a second thought, "Tasha" bent over, at the side of the table, and picked up one of the chairs. It had been bolted to the ground, but she was an entity of a great many powers, and a great many abilities. A certain, augmented level of strength was just one of those many powers. After the chair was lifted over her head, she howled. The chair sailed across the room, crashing into one of the computer terminals on the wall of the far side of the room, cracking it into four or five clean pieces, which dropped harmlessly to the ground. She took a breath, feeling exhilarated and slightly relieved...

...and then she moved on to the next chair.

* * *

What the hell was Bruce Maddox' name doing in Tasha Yar's file? Tatiyana paused, with her arms crossed, as she read further into the article. Bruce Maddox had never mentioned Tasha, and had never really given any indication when she'd seen Maddox and Data together that the two of them had ever met. Bruce had never served on the _Enterprise_, Tasha had never served in Starfleet Robotics. There was hardly any connection between the two officers at all. Except...

...except for Data. Maddox had seemed to have something of a...familiarity, with the new first officer. Like they'd met somewhere before. And Data could be easily linked to Tasha, through the Vagra II mission, as well as an extensive record of the two having served together aboard the _Enterprise_ during the first year of its fateful seven-year voyage, before crashing into Veridian III.

But Tatiyana knew there had to be more. She checked the source of the appendice, and opened up a file about a trial overseen by one Captain Phillipa Louvois. A legal hearing regarding the sentience and the rights of androids.

And Bruce Maddox had been arguing against that sentience. As it turned out, Bruce Maddox had also been the only member of the Starfleet Academy admissions board who had voted against Data's joining Starfleet in the first place. There was definitely history between the two men...history that Tatiyana had known nothing about. Things seemed to have changed between them, though...and Maddox seemed to have a completely new outlook on Data, and on machines in general, as near as Tatiyana could tell.

But...something was still not quite right.

She reached the file on Data's defense. First, evidence was cited in the form of his numerous Starfleet commendations. Second, a book was cited. The third piece of evidence seemed to be the link - Tasha Yar was referenced. A holoprojector with her image, a year after her death, had been used as evidence. Under pressure from the defense, Data had admitted that he and Tasha had been -

There was a muffled crash, and Tatiyana jumped despite herself. She turned to the monitor for the Observation Lounge, and her eyes widened slightly. "Tasha" was destroying the room from the inside out, hurling chairs, bits of table, and debris in every which way imaginable, yelling and cursing and howling and screaming.

"Tasha"...Armus...whoever she was...she'd gone berzerk.

"Chekov to Keptin," Tatiyana called, tapping her communicator swiftly and signalling Commander Data, "Ve may have a slight problem..."

* * *

By the time that Tatiyana had reached the main corridor, Data was turning onto it as well, and stepped into the hall practically beside her.

"Report," he commanded.

Tatiyana shrugged, charging the large, unwieldly phaser rifle that she held in her hands. She switched it to the heaviest stun setting possible, and recalibrated it so that she'd get a good, strong burst of that stun if she had to fire.

"I vos sitting in my office, vatching the monitors, vhen...vhen she snapped," Tatiyana explained.

"How?" Data inquired?

The two officers were making a quick, steady pace down the hallway, whizzing by various repair staff and junior officers as they went. Data's face was grim and stern, and Tatiyana's face was worried. She was obviously slightly bothered by what she'd witnessed.

"She's throwing furniture," Tatiyana explained, "Yelling, shouting..."

"But Armus has not yet attempted to escape?" Data asked, arching his eyebrow slightly.

"Nyet," Tatiyana spat, shaking her head, "Not seriously."

Data paused as they began to near the end of the corridor, and the Observation Lounge doors.

"Fascinating," he thought aloud. He turned, glancing at Tatiyana, his eyes serious and somewhat cold. "You will remain here. I will speak to Armus."

"Keptin," Tatiyana protested, "Ve don't know vhat she's capable of, or vhat she'll do if she has you alone - "

"You will remain here, and in the event of an emergency you will depressurize the room," Data commanded, "You are not to enter until an order is given that prompts you to do otherwise."

Before Tatiyana could protest again, Data had keyed in, in an inhumanly rapid way, the combination at the panel near the doors that would open them. There was a soft hiss, and the door slid open, leading the way to a dark room, still lit by a light orange glow outside. He entered, glancing around, and spotting nothing.

As the door closed, Tatiyana swallowed deeply, hoping that whatever the android seemed to have in mind, that he'd survive long enough for her to chastise him on standard security procedure after the fact. She opened up a nearby computer terminal, rerouted the display to show a feed of the internal sensors in the room that Data had just entered. Two security men were standing outside the room, waiting to enter in the event of a problem. Tatiyana Chekov watched, and waited, hoping that their acting captain knew what he was doing.

* * *

Data had to glance around a second time, and a third, before realizing that he didn't have a clear line of sight of Armus at all. This disconcerted him greatly - the prospect that the menace that had killed Tasha and Hobbes might be loose on the ship was a thought he didn't like. He shook it from his head, and decided to circle the room, in case there was something he'd missed, some blind spot or some hidden corner.

Surely enough, the corner was where he found Armus crouched. It was sitting with its back against the wall, its legs out, its arms crossed. It was still in Tasha's form, and Data tried to pay the creature's physical appearance as little mind as possible. He also outright refused to call the creature by her assumed name. Armus was Armus, regardless of the physical form it took, and Data wouldn't allow himself to hide from that distinction. There was too much riding on this all right now to let his feelings interfere, or to let his emotional conflicts on the subject interfere.

Even when he was noticeably moving towards it, Armus did not look up at him, or acknowledge his presence. Data, after a few steps, was standing within about three feet of it. Rather than glancing at the physical form he knew all too well, he chose to glance out the window, towards the derelict _Sutherland_.

"I have come to a decision," Data explained, his tone of voice unusually blunt and straightforward.

"Really?" Armus spat, bitterly, "And I was so very concerned that you were just going to let me stew out here for another hour." The familiar, light voice made Data's emotion chip heat up for an instant. Armus had succeeded not only in mimicking Tasha's physical form, but her voice perfectly. It was the voice that Data usually only hear in his self-diagnostic, or in his dream program. He paused, trying not to draw too much attention to it, but continued to glance out the window.

"The crew of the _Sutherland_ require medical attention as soon as possible," Data explained, "We will reintegrate the saucer, and then you will proceed to the bridge with myself and my senior staff. At that time, you will enter the navigational co-ordinates required."

Armus paused, after a few seconds, and glanced up at him.

"Good," she snapped, "I...I guess that's it, then." She paused, awkwardly, glancing over the end result of her little tantrum. The chairs were everywhere, and the table had been shattered in several places. She chuckled, darkly, and glanced up at him. "So that's all? Aren't you going to give me hell for breaking all your toys, in here, Tin Man?" she sneered.

"That would be an inefficient use of my time," Data countered, arching an eyebrow, "As you've already destroyed the _Soyuz_, along with half of both the _Rorschach_ and _Sutherland_, my 'giving you hell' would do little to amend either of those situations. The vandalism of the Observation Lounge is a small addition to a most lengthy selection of offences for which you will be called upon to answer."

"Justice," she sneered, mockingly, "An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. What a pleasant concept. Amusing, in its own respect."

"Hardly pleasant," Data argued, "But that which is required of us by duty and by law is rarely that which would necessarily be the most pleasant of prospects."

Armus sneered, leaning her head back and laughing dryly.

"I guess I gave you two too much credit," Armus chuckled, "Because she never believed it would work out. She was always afraid you'd be too...mechanical. Synthetic. Phony. Not real."

Data paused, glancing curiously at Armus, crouching to put himself more on level. Despite himself, he found he was glancing into those dark eyes, beneath the glow of the orange light reflecting on her blond hair.

"If I may ask, why did you damage the Observation Lounge?" Data asked.

Armus glared back at him.

"I...despise...being controlled," she hissed, "And I despite being abandoned."

"It was you who originally drove me out of the Lounge," Data noted, "And you who told me only to return when I was prepared to provide a response."

Armus rolled her eyes, and then raised a palm over her face.

"Thanks," she groaned, "You're already making me feel better."

"I am not endeavoring to," Data snapped.

Armus glared up at him, furiously.

"You don't like me, Tin Man?" she growled, "That's your business. Does this body make you uncomfortable? That's also your business. I happen to like it. I've had to listen to her voice rattling around the inside of my head for the last seven years...I suppose you could say that in my own way I rather admire dear Tasha. So tolerate it. Because...without my assistance, you're not going to be able to save your precious planet Earth."

Data paused, and then finally nodded faintly.

"You...hear Tasha's voice?" he inquired, softly.

"Once in awhile," Armus explained, "And it goes both ways. Do you want me to give her a message, Tin Man?" Armus snickered, shifting over closer to him, trailing a finger suggestively across his lower lip, "Is there anything you've ever wanted to say to her...? Or do to her...? Because this might be your lucky day. Another living, breathing Tasha Yar has fallen right into your lap..."

Data wrapped his hand around hers, warmly. He seemed to be very much enjoying the sensation of her skin again his. With a start, though, he grabbed her hand tightly, and removed it from his face. His face had softened, for a few seconds, and Armus had half-expected from his expression that he was going to lean over and kiss her. Then the look hardened, and became just as steely and cold as it had been before.

"I will signal the _Sutherland_," he spoke, "You will accompany me to the Battle Bridge. And following our business there you will remain with me until the co-ordinates are locked in."

"And then what?" Armus snapped, "You'll lock me up again?"

"I am certainly considering it," Data snapped back.

There was a long silence, as the two glared at each other, neither one wanting to be the first to speak. Data was furious at Armus not only for having killed Tasha and destroyed the _Sutherland_ and _Soyuz_, but for having defiled the memory of someone he cared so deeply for by assuming her form. He was displeased at the fact that Maddox was now in critical care because of Armus, and that Christopher Hobbes was dead because of Armus. As for Armus...Armus was cornered. Helpless. Angry at Data for having left her in here to rot for so long, and upset that Data was treating her with such coldness...but Armus knew that it was nothing less than deserved. She had, after all, attacked his ship, and doubtlessly had killed members of his crew, and the crew of the _Sutherland_.

"I..." Armus stammered, "Do not wish to remain here."

"You will more than likely be confined to the brig," Data explained, "It is unlikely that you would be returned to the Observation Lounge."

Armus glowered at him. "I want quarters," she hissed, "My own. But I want to walk freely. I do not enjoy confinement."

"I will give it consideration," Data spoke, twitching lightly in thought. "For now, we shall proceed to the Battle Bridge."

Slightly playfully, Armus reached out her hand to him.

"So...would you be a gentleman, and help me up, Captain?" she snickered, once again trying to get a rise out of him.

Data paused, looked at her hand, and then took a step back.

"Tasha was always a most athletically and physically proficient individual," he snapped, almost bitterly, "Her body should sufficiently be able to raise itself from a sitting position without exerting a great deal of strain."

Armus brushed herself off, stood, brushed herself a second time, and then stood facing Data with her fists at her sides. Her knuckles were white. She'd managed to frustrate and confound him again, which again gave her a certain sense of superiority, of accomplishment...but, at the same time, the way that he kept brushing her off was starting to get irksome

"Just take me to the bridge," she snapped, "Before I change my mind about all this."

* * *

Data, "Tasha", and Tatiyana stepped onto the bridge at roughly the same time, stepping through the automatic doors in that exact order. Tatiyana had taken up the rear, and had been watching Tasha closely, her phaser rifle still well in hand, and charged. She'd half-expected the slime-creature-girl-thing to make a run for it, when they'd cleared the Observation Lounge, and had been slightly surprised that she hadn't. The fact that Tasha was cooperating with them was almost more aggravating than it had been when she'd been a direct opponent.

There was also the matter of the pre-existing relationship between Tasha - the real one, not this reconstructed imitation of her - and Lieutenant Commander Data. Tatiyana felt that it had brought a number of...free radicals, so to speak, to the current situation. Unnecessary risk. Did she believe that Data's judgement was impaired? She didn't know. She couldn't be certain. But it was a very distinct possibility. And it was a possibility that Tatiyana Chekov didn't like the prospect of.

Data moved towards the captain's chair, and took his seat. Ensign Gallant was already at the front of the room, seated at the flight control station, and had turned to watch the officers enter when he'd heard the doors whoosh apart. Tatiyana moved towards her station, but, to her frustration...Tasha had taken her place at tactical.

"My, my," Tasha chuckled in that very smooth, distinct voice of hers, which to Tatiyana right now was like the sound of nails on a chalkboard, "How things have changed in the last seven years. I wonder what this one does - ?" she mused, reaching for one of the buttons on the console in front of her.

"Don't touch that!" Tatiyana snapped, angrily, stepping forward boldly.

"Little girl," "Tasha" sneered, "Lieutenant Yar was firing phasers and torpedoes while you were in high school, learning basic concepts of antimatter. I assure you...we know what we're doing."

Data turned, glancing up with mild frustration towards Armus.

"Lieutenant Chekov is the _Rorschach_'s tactical officer," Data snapped, "While Lieutenant Yar was a Starfleet officer, Armus, you are not. You will relinquish the post to Lieutenant Chekov at once."

"Tasha" glanced down and tugged at her uniform front, motioning to it in mild frustration.

"You mean I picked out these nice, security-gold clothes all for nothing?" she laughed, "Now I'm just disappointed."

Data's gaze was as unwavering as it was displeased. "Tasha" sighed, threw up her hands, and moved from the station, stepping towards the center of the bridge. Tatiyana stepped in, and took her place at Tactical, slightly fuming. Tatiyana glared at Tasha, as Tasha moved closer and closer to the command chair, where Data was seated.

"Fine," Tasha sighed, a mischievous grin on her face, "You can have it. There's another spot I kind of had in mind." Data glanced over at the approaching female form, but had little time to react at all before "Tasha" had leapt up onto his lap, wrapping her arms suggestively around his neck. "Now, I think that's more comfortable, don't you?"

Data was about to respond with a retort or a protest, when Tatiyana spoke up, her console beeping slightly.

"_Sutherland_ reports interlocks ready for re-integration," she called out, "The acting captain is hailing."

Data paused, his mouth agape, not sure whether he should answer Tatiyana, remove Armus for his lap, or just have Armus removed from the bridge entirely. He paused for a few seconds, slightly confounded by the presence of the young woman draped across him.

"Keptin?" Tatiyana repeated.

"Tasha" leaned over, whispering softly in Data's synthetic white-gold ear.

"Maybe you should answer that," she snickered.

Data jolted, and motioned after a couple of twitches towards the main viewscreen.

"Onscreen - no, belay that," he corrected himself. He reached up, and removed "Tasha"'s arms from his neck, promptly thereafter leaning forward slightly and causing her to crash onto the ground, firmly on her bottom. Armus stood up, mildly amused by the whole scenario, and brushed herself off, crossing her arms and standing at Data's side. "Now, you may display hail onscreen," Data ordered Tatiyana. The Russian tactical officer nodded, and after a few seconds Holtz, who Armus recognized from the bridge of the _Sutherland_, came into view.

"Captain," Holtz called out, "Thank God you're all alive. I am Lieutenant Holtz of the starship _Sutherland._ Our internal sensors showed that the creature who attacked us beamed aboard your vessel."

"We have the creature under control, for the time being," Data explained, "There are still, however, a number of issues that remain. Your crew requires medical attention, as I am aware. The _Rorschach_ has a mission to complete, of the utmost importance. I believe that both of our needs will be best met through a saucer reintegration."

Holtz, half-Vulcan and bearded, sat back in his chair on the hazy bridge, and watched Data with a slight amount of suspicion.

"Forgive me," Holtz explained, "But...the creature controlled the entire crew of the _Sutherland_ with only the power of its mind. It tricked you into letting it lower your prefix codes. How do I know you're not under the creature's control, just trying to get a hold of our saucer section? You have to admit, it's a distinct possibility, Captain."

"True," Data countered, "But I am not an organic being, as you can verify using your ship's memory banks. My positronic brain operates differently. The creature's telekinetic powers might be able to force me to carry out certain motions, but its telepathic abilities would be wasted on me. I would not be subject to the same sorts of control that you might."

"I'm standing right here, you know, Tin Man," Armus muttered, under her breath "'Creature' sounds so...impersonal."

Holtz didn't seem to have noticed the minor interjection, and paused, considering Data's words.

"You are the senior officer," he sighed, "And you are correct - many of my people are in need of medical attention. I will transmit our prefix codes so you can engage the interlocks."

"Thank you," Data nodded, politely, "Medical teams will be standing by to receive patients at all major junctions. I also wish to speak with you, personally, once we have cleared the Pavel Nebula."

Holtz smiled, wearily. "Good," he grunted, "We have a lot to talk about. _Sutherland_ out."

Data paused, giving Holtz' image a moment to disappear from the main viewer. He glanced over towards Gallant, his eyes focused.

"Mister Gallant," he ordered, "Maneuver us into position." Data glanced upward, then, to face Tatiyana at the tactical post. "Lieutenant Chekov, engage saucer reintegration. Signal Ensign Cohl to have medical teams standing by to receive casualties."

"Aye, keptin," Tatiyana responded.

Data paused again, and then glanced to his left, where "Tasha" was watching him. He tried not to look at her directly, but his eyes were in her general direction.

"Armus - " he started.

"Call me Tasha," she corrected.

"I cannot," Data responded, immediately, "Because I believe that would be a statement of falsehood." Tasha opened her mouth to argue, but Data continued unhindered. "Once we have docked, Ensign Gallant and Lieutenant Chekov will proceed to the main bridge and relieve Mister Holtz. You and I shall proceed to astrometrics, where you will assist me with plotting a course out of the nebula."

Armus nodded, rolling her eyes.

"Of course," she responded, "And then I go back to my cage?"

"No," Data answered, shaking his head, "You will assist me with a slightly more important task."

"Tasha", Armus, watched him with concern. She was not at all liking the sound of this.


	17. XVII: Colorless

_Colourless_

* * *

**I am pleased that my story has exceeded 50,000 words - originally, that was my goal for the WHOLE STORY, but it became quickly apparent that this was going to be a longer. I'll try not to drag it on TOO long. ^^**

**The adventures of Data, Armus, Maddox, Wright, Chekov, Gallant, Karn, Cohl, and the **_**USS Rorschach**_** continue! *rolls the credits*** **Now, as per usual, here are my responses to readers who have recently reviewed the story. **

**Kaiba-Kun (2x reviews! Kudos!) - It's funny how you said I was updating quickly, because the day you said that I actually got mad at the computer, slammed the lid to my laptop down, and decided I was going to take a break because the story was driving me nuts. xD Fortunately, I've decided that it ain't over 'till the fat lady sings. I'm glad you like the story, though I still believe that there are far better Data fics out there. I will endeavor, however, to finish this story so that you and like-minded readers aren't left in suspense. As for Armus...yes, he/she/it is definitely pushing Data's buttons right now...but don't be fooled. Armus might be completely evil...but there are certain voices at work within Armus that aren't. You might be surprised at what happens next.**

* * *

The astrometrics lab was dark, still with only the emergency lights and a few holographic projectors still active. Wright had managed to restore most of the ship's systems, main power included, but several of the junctions and relays that led into this particular room were still offline. Merrith Karn was sitting in front of the main terminal, struggling to determine their current position, heading, anything. The little altercation with Armus had thrown off all of his calculations, and had made it effectively impossible for him to get them out of the Pavel Nebula without creating additional delays - delays that they couldn't afford right now if they were going to get to the..."Shining Ones", had Armus called them? Whatever they were, Karn remembered from the mission profile that Maddox had discussed with him days ago that if they failed, the creatures would ravage Earth just like they'd ravaged everywhere else.

Given the damage to the _Rorschach_ this far already, though, even before they'd reached the Crystal Gorge, things weren't looking especially promising for the ship, or for its mission. They were the only Starfleet vessel that would be able to complete this particular mission, and they were terribly ill-equipped to do so. Their only new asset seemed to be the arrival of the Armus creature...Karn just hoped that it would know something that would help get them out of this in one piece.

They were going to need, frankly, all the help they could get.

The doors on the far side of the room opened, and Karn saw the silhouettes of a male and woman, one clad in the bright red duty uniform of a command officer, and one in the mostly black jumpsuit of an Ops-division officer. It took a moment to identify the figures properly, in the dim light, but he realized quickly that it was Data and Armus...or whoever the woman was that Armus had turned into. He cleared his throat, and motioned to the star charts that were showing up on the display screen in front of him.

"Commander," he started, glancing at Data with concern, "I've gone over every chart, every reading, every record. If we have to make a course correction outside of the nebula, it could throw us off the neutrino trails completely. And if we don't move soon, the trails are going to dissipate. Now, other than running a full spectral analysis outside the ship, I don't know any way that we're going to be able to set ourselves back on the right track. And in the time a spectral analysis would take - "

Data's eyebrow arched slightly as "Tasha" stepped forward, rolling her eyes.

"Typical," she snapped, "Out of my way." She brushed Karn aside, much to his surprise, and took his place at the science station. She changed the angle of the projection, her hands darting with great precision back and forth between the controls on the panel in front of her. Not only did the orientation of the Pavel Nebula on the display change, but the image of a tiny ship traversing it, a simulated view of the _Rorschach_, came into view.

"019 mark 344," Armus explained, frowning at Karn, "And then change course, curving an additional 000 mark 355 at this point here, and this point here." She motioned with her hand to several distinct co-ordinates on the star chart itself, that she'd plotted in.

Karn was astounded, glancing back and forth between the young woman and the android who were standing in the room with him. His face lit up, and he studied the co-ordinates for a few minutes, to confirm their validity. He glanced back over at Armus, grinning excitedly.

"Yes!" he exclaimed, "Of course! A straight, linear flight path would have thrown us off-course because of singularities in the neighbouring sectors...yes, that's what I was missing! This is perfect!" He input the flight path into a tricorder, and dashed towards the door, which whooshed open without pause, as he took off in a light jog towards the main bridge. "I'll have these in Gallant's hands in no time at all!"

Armus sighed, crossed her arms, and smiled smugly.

"Well," she mused, "That was easy. Now," she snarled, turning towards Data, "Why don't you tell me what - "

"Inaccurate," Data interrupted her, appearing to struggle with having to interrupt her. His features softened slightly, and he half-smiled at her. "Your actions, though easy by your standards, they proved extremely complex to Ensign Karn and Ensign Gallant. The computations required were too complex for even my positronic net to process in the time allotted. You may have saved the efforts of this crew, and the population of Earth by providing us the navigational co-ordinates we needed."

Armus watched him carefully, her glare turning into a slightly awkward smile. She kept watching him, though, not quite sure what he was getting at or what he wanted. The compliment seemed to have caught her slightly off-guard.

"I suppose," she stumbled, "But...it wasn't that difficult. You really shouldn't be thanking me."

Data opened his mouth to argue again, but just as quickly as he'd softened before, his features hardened again.

"Be seated," he ordered. Armus was noticing that Data seemed to jump back and forth between two different extremes, two different personalities, almost. There was one that was warm, and friendly, and kind...one that seemed to care about her, to treat her well...and then there was the other. The second extreme was a calculating, efficient, heartless machine that had only the welfare of the ship and her crew in mind. Though it might have had to do with the fact that he was acting captain...there was something else, in the way that he spoke to her. Something cold. Something...something angry. Something she'd spotted from the moment she'd first laid eyes on him, wearing that new red shirt.

Armus took a seat promptly at Karn's seat, at the science console in astrometrics, and then placed her elbows on her knees and her hands on her chin, holding her head up. She had the appearance of a child, about to be scolded.

"Alright," she sighed, "Now what?"

"As I stated previously," Data snapped, "This is of great importance. You have knowledge of the source of the neutrino emissions that we are pursuing."

Armus rolled her eyes, and crossed her arms.

"The Shining Ones," she snapped, "Yes, I have knowledge of them. I used to be part of them. It was actually rather nice, and then I got turned into the slime monster of Vagra II. Now, if you're done rubbing salt in a few very old wounds, I would like to return to my quarters - "

"I have not assigned you quarters," Data argued. "We can discuss that matter further once you tell me about the Shining Ones."

Armus laughed, sneering at him, watching the android in the dim light of the astrometrics lab.

"There's not an awful lot to tell," she mused, "They're beautiful. They dazzle. They are an incredible and wonderful sight for eyes to behold. And they're obsessed with it. Obsessed with that beauty, with their quest for perfection. They had no problem dropping me off on Vagra II when I started to get in the way of their quest."

Data paused, watching her, and began to pace. He raised a hand to his chin, making a motion that indicated that he was deep in thought. Tasha's consciousness, still a very deep and buried part of Armus, was almost picturing the android carrying that stupid Sherlock Holmes pipe he'd carried around during the mission with the Anticans and the Sanae.

"They left you because they considered you imperfect?" he asked.

"Less perfect," she hissed, "They...they changed me. Poured all of their hate...their malice...their darkness...all of their imperfections and impurities into me. I was changed...warped. Turned into this." She stood, starting to pace as well. She found herself, despite herself, circling Data. She was glaring at him and stalking him like a predator, like a caged predator waiting to break free. "And then they left. For years. And then you and your kind came along, Tin Man," Armus spat, angrier, "You all came along, and I wasn't alone."

Data paused, watching her. He stood in place, allowing her to continue to circle him. He followed her with his eyes.

"You quickly changed that," he explained, "You were given an opportunity to make a peaceful first contact with an alien race that would have welcomed you. Instead, you held the passengers of our shuttlecraft hostage, and murdered Lieutenant Yar."

Armus stopped, dead in her tracks, looking a little bit wounded.

"You're right," she answered, "I did. Just like I murdered everyone on the _Icarus_, and the _Soyuz_, and all of those other ships."

"Because it amused you?" Data asked.

"No!" Armus snapped. "Because it gave me the means to escape!"

Data paused, watching her with newfound curiosity.

"Why, if you had escaped Vagra II, were you so intent on following your own kind?" he inquired, "Did they not desert you in the first place?"

"That's the point," Armus hissed, her light, soft voice breaking into a dual, dark, echo. "They deserted me. Now, they dance among the stars as perfect beings, pure of blemish or inequity. I'm going to make them pay. I'm going to make them all pay."

Data took in the remark, and his face softened again.

"I am sorry," Data explained, "That you were abandoned. Had you communicated to us in the first place your situation, perhaps we could have better assisted you. We might have provided you with - "

"You talk too much," Armus snapped, cutting him off, "What are you doing following them, anyway? And how do you know they pose a threat to your precious Earth?"

Data brought up the display of the three worlds that had been ravaged on the display, as they'd appeared before the arrival of the Shining Ones.

"I don't understand," Armus mumbled, watching the images of the planets themselves float by on the display.

"Captain Maddox observed each of these planets before and after the visits of the creatures we pursue," Data explained, motioning to the planets. "This is the worlds as they appeared afterward."

The images of the planets transformed into the dark, desolate wastelands that had been left in the wake of the creatures. At first, Armus dismissed them. The first showed only a world devoid of life. It could have been coincidental, could have been due to any -

_No._

The single syllable was the only thing that Armus could think as she watched the second planet, with little patches of black where its continents had been before. A smooth, thick, black liquid where before there had been land mass. She watched it, moving closer to study it, in horror.

"No..."

She could only whisper the word, now, as the third planet came into view, its surface completely coated over with the thick black sludge. She watched as the _Rorschach_ approached it, as Maddox had told Data they had, only to be blasted back by a colorless wave of light. A familar, colorless, wave of light. The _Rorschach_ was propelled back, sprawling...the same way that Hobbes had...the same way that Tasha had...

"NO!" she cried out, flailing an arm through the holographic projection, as if trying to claw right through it. She slammed her fist down on the control panel near where she stood, angrily. "No, no, NO!" she howled, ripping the panel out and throwing it across the room. The images of the planets flickered, but didn't fade. "Turn it off, damn you!" she shrieked, "Turn it off now!"

Concerned, and a little taken aback, Data watched the images of the planets, and then shifted his gaze back to Armus.

"I do not understand," he explained, "Do the images disturb you?"

"You're damned right they disturb me!" she moaned, raising a hand over her face. Hot, clear, angry tears were streaming down, but she concealed them rather than let the android see. The sound of her voice, cracking, gave it all away. "Turn it off!"

Data simply glanced, confusedly, at the images. "Certainly," he answered, "But first, would you please elaborate on the reason for your reaction?"

She glanced up at him, her jet-black eyes reddened slightly from the tears, and she stormed towards him, a look of disbelief on his face.

"You don't see it, do you?" she snapped, "Are you completely useless, Tin Man? Or do you _want_ me to spell it out for you?"

"I see nothing but barren planets, coated with a substance that appears to - "

"It was worthless! They abandoned me because they thought it would make them perfect!" she cried, "And it didn't! They came back! Again, and again, and again!" She looked away, covering her eyes again. "At least...at least there was some meaning. I always thought there was something wrong with me, that at least maybe there was a reason they pitched me. But...but this..."

Data paused, watching the planets curiously.

"I still do not understand - "

And then he did.

The black mass on the continents, and on the third world, weren't lifeless. They weren't just slime, ooze, or residual toxins left behind by the conversion of the worlds into wastelands, as Maddox had originally predicted. They were conscious. They were aware. Something had been planting creatures like Armus all over the galaxy...leaving by-products of their mad search for perfection everywhere.

"Armus," Data whispered, "They are...you."

Armus lowered her hand, and nodded simply to him. She turned away, looking towards a panel with nothing but fluctuating gravometric readings on it. She was only glancing at it so that her back would be to the android, so that he wouldn't be able to see her distress right now.

"Please just leave," she whispered back, softly, "I...want to be alone right now."

Data paused, and then approached her, standing so that he was glancing just slightly over her shoulder.

"This will be an inconvenient location for you," he explained, "Many science officers use this space. Perhaps I should show you to guest quarters, until a better opportunity presents itself?"

Armus just nodded, blankly, and turned. She grabbed onto his arm, holding it for support, and stepped beside him. Data was about to chastise her - this was the fourth time, after all, that Armus had tried to initiate physical contact with him since coming aboard. The other three times, it had been under a thoroughly cruel and sexual pretense. This time, however...she seemed vulnerable. Hurt. Like someone had just run her over, emotionally, like a runabout. He couldn't bring himself to smile, yet...not to Armus. Not to the creature who had killed Tasha Yar. But...he wasn't heartless, and wasn't cold. The emotion chip meant that right now, he felt sympathy...if only a little. So he didn't move her arm away, or reject it.

"Just...lead the way, Tin Man," she rasped, shakily.

Data walked slowly into the corridor, as she followed.

* * *

_Subject shows no improvement. Neural activity unchanged. External stimuli produced no response_.

Damn, he was usually a bundle of nerves when he was awake, but Bruce Maddox looked extremely peaceful when he was asleep. Or comatose, as the case might be instead. His face had been cleaned of dried blood and the wounds that he'd been given before, and now there was only a face unmarred by physical harm, peaceful, fighting a battle for consciousness and life that Lissa Cohl couldn't imagine. Lissa Cohl was sitting at the bedside of this man. He'd been visited so far by Data and Wright, and everyone who came to sickbay asked about his condition. Each time, Lissa Cohl had given them the bad news. Whenever someone entered the room, Lissa knew it was coming, and it had become an unscratchable, aggravating itch.

And so, when Merrith Karn stepped into Sickbay, who Lissa could just see barely out of her peripheral vision, she rolled her eyes and sighed.

"I'll let you know when he improves," she snapped.

Karn paused, in mid-step, putting his hands into the pockets of his jumpsuit.

"I actually just came to tell you that Data and Armus found the co-ordinates," Karn explained, "Which means we're underway again. We're...well, we're back on track."

Cohl didn't exactly look like she cared right now. She folded up her medical tricorder, and stalked off to her office. Karn followed closely behind her, watching her with worry on his face.

"Did I do something wrong?" he asked.

"Did I?" Lissa asked, half-snarling, "Did Maddox? Did any of them?" She took a deep breath, and buried her face in her hands, sighing deeply. "I just...I don't understand this. Any of this. Who's this Armus thing, why did it attack us, and why is everyone suddenly okay about it roaming the ship?"

Karn stepped behind her, laying his hands down on the back of her shoulders, starting into a soft massage. Lissa's frown deepened initially, but then began to waver away. She sighed, half-smiling at the sensation of the touch. Karn grinned, and answered.

"All I know is that we still have a chance of pulling this off," Karn explained, "Just the way that Bruce would have wanted."

Cohl frowned again. That was the one name she didn't want to hear right now. She was doing everything in her power to keep him alive...but eighteen officers from the _Rorschach_ were dead, and who knew how many on the _Sutherland_ had been killed as well. She was responsible for making the funeral arrangements for as many of them as she could. It was going to have to be a "torpedo" funeral - there were too many bodies for the ship's morgue, so they'd have to dump them off the ship. It was undignified, but there were worse ways to die.

"Lissa?" Karn asked aloud, "Lissa, are you alright?"

She shook her head, blankly.

"I want this to be done," she sighed, "I...I want to help people. To explore. So much violence...so much pointless death...I don't like it."

Karn nodded, and frowned in his own way.

"Not many of us do," he agreed, "But...if something good comes out of it...then maybe it was worth something. If we can stop these things before they reach Earth...maybe those deaths will have meant something."

Cohl glanced back over at Maddox' unmoving body.

"I hope so," she whispered, "I really, really hope so..."

* * *

When they stepped into the quarters, Armus was taken aback. It had remembered from what it had seen of Tasha's memories how spacious and how luxurious quarters on a Federation starship had seemed, and the crew quarters, in one of the higher decks in the ship's saucer section, did not disappoint. There was a view of the nebula outside that couldn't be rivalled, through the viewport at the side of the room. She could see, through that viewport, the rear of the ship, and the corner of the torpedo pod. As much as she'd seen ships before, on screens and computer readings, it was different to see it up close.

"It's beautiful," she whispered, letting Data's arm down and stepping closer, "Like...like before."

"Before?" Data inquired, stepping into the room behind her, and glancing out of the viewport for himself. "Before what?"

"When I was...when I was one of them," Armus explained, "The Shining Ones. It's as if your whole body is constantly dancing...it's a joy that you can't understand, that you can't imagine. When you're with them...you never, ever want to leave." She watched out the viewport with fascination, and then turned back to Data. "It's not quite the same," she explained, "But...some things are still beautiful, to me."

Data nodded, and then approached the replicator.

"Water," he ordered, "Cold." A simple glass full of colorless liquid materialized in the replicator before the android, and he carried the item over to where Armus stood, and held it out to her. She glanced up at him, surprised.

"What's this?" she asked.

"You lost significant water and sodium when you expelled tears in Astrometrics," Data observed, "This will help. In addition, if you are not accustomed to a form such as Lieutenant Yar's, you will need to be aware that such a physical form needs fluids and nutrients in order to - "

"I remember, thanks," Armus nodded, sucking back the glass in a single gulp. She glanced up at him quizzically. "Why are you doing this?"

"Please elaborate," Data asked in response, arching an eyebrow slightly. "To what are you referring?"

"I am referring, Tin Man, to this," she snapped, holding up the empty glass, "To the quarters...to keeping me on your ship instead of shooting me out an airlock. Are you telling me you're not upset in the least over what I've done?"

Data paused, freezing up slightly and turning just a little colder.

"You are sentient," Data responded, "And should be treated with a certain minimum level of dignity and respect. I would do the same for any other being."

"So why am I stuck in here instead of the brig?" she inquired.

"Because I doubt the brig would be sufficient," Data observed, "I suspect that given your powers, securing your own release would be a simple matter."

Data paused, thinking over his next question very, very carefully. There was something he'd wondered from the first moment that Armus had indicated that it possessed Tasha's memories, and her consciousness. Truth be told, he was afraid to learn the answer - he was already having a difficult enough time controlling his feelings - or even knowing what to feel at all - when he was around Armus, especially with the form that Armus had chosen being so very...familiar.

"You're staring," Armus interrupted, watching Data with a flustered sort of look. "Is there a screw loose up there, Tin Man?"

Data shook his head, frowning slightly.

"Negative," he answered, "I am...curious. Do you truly possess Lieutenant Yar's...memories?"

Armus rolled her eyes. "Of course I do!" she snapped, "I already told you that. She's been bouncing around my head for seven years."

Data paused, asking the question he knew he needed to know the answer to.

"And...do you also carry her consciousness?"

Armus set the empty glass down on a nearby desk, and looked up at him with a frown.

"The answer to that question is so complex you couldn't possibly understand," Armus sneered, "But...yes, I do, in a sense."

"In a sense?"

"Think of her as...dormant," Armus explained, "She wakes up, sure, every once in awhile...but she is one voice of many. Not quite a collective mind...more like a chorus, with myself as the sole conductor. Sheila Gates, Michael Palmer, Christopher Hobbes...they're stuck here, too."

"In the same capacity?" he asked, still very curious.

"Somewhat," Armus elaborated, "But...she's been here longest. Her voice is the clearest...the loudest."

Data paused, glancing at Armus with a sad, forlorn expression on his face that made him look...older...than he truly was.

"Can you truly...convey her a message, as you said you could?"

Armus nodded.

Data opened his mouth, but realized at that moment that he couldn't bring himself to speak the words aloud. Not like this. Not when there was so much at stake. He didn't even know whether Armus was telling the truth or not.

"Tell her..." Data whispered, "That...I am...relieved...that, despite her death...that a part of her has survived. Her absence affected me notably."

He stepped back, towards the doors out of the chamber. He couldn't bring himself to say anything else.

Before he reached the door, there was a soft female hand grasped around his, pulling him back gently. She whirled him around, wrapped her other hand around his back, and guided him into a gentle, sweet kiss. Data's eyes widened for a moment, and he prepared to break the embrace, but...but his emotions got the best of him, and despite how wrong he knew it was to continue he kissed her back.

_I must stop_, he thought to himself. _I must stop_. _She is not Tasha. She is not Tasha, she is Armus. And if it were not for Armus, Tasha would still be alive. This...this is wrong..._

The longer the embrace went on, and the longer this train of thought spiralled, the more...guilty...Data felt about indulging his emotions, and engaging in such an intimate activity. His ethical subroutines were screaming at him to cut the embrace off. He broke off the embrace, glancing down at Armus in astonishment.

Then he saw her eyes.

Her eyes seemed to be fluctuating...flickering...between an ebon-black and a deep-sea-blue. Blue, like Tasha's eyes had been, before.

"Seven years, Data, and 'notable' is all you have to say?" she chuckled, lightly. "I - " It was then that a look of horror came over her, and her eyes faded back to pitch black. She glanced away, in thought, and then took a step back, glaring at Data. "You must leave," she instructed him, "Now."

Data wasn't sure why, or what had happened, but he had a lot of questions of his own right now. He needed time to think, to reflect, and to better understand the change.

"Of course," Data mumbled, still a bit shocked at his own behaviour, "I...I will attempt to - "

"Just shut up and go!" Armus snapped, "Now!"

Data turned, taking one last glance back at her, before the doors to the quarters parted, and he stepped back into the hall.

Armus clutched her blonde head, sitting down on a chair at her desk. She took a deep breath, attempting to regain a little of the mental peace and quiet that she'd just lost.

"Be silent," Armus hissed, inwardly, "Be...be silent..."


	18. XVIII: Friends

_Friends_

Tatiyana felt like an idiot when she'd finished reading through the files on the Maddox trial, when Data's sentience had been once and for all established. She didn't feel like an idiot for what had happened, then, but rather for what was happening now. She hadn't had the foggiest idea, initially, that Data had been so attached to Tasha Yar. It should have been obvious, the way he consistently had referred back to the Vagra II incident. The way he'd talked about it so often, but so neutrally...the way it had seemed, at moments, as if he were omitting certain details.

She'd scoured the files for hours, after finishing reading that one file. But...no matter how damning the rest of it seemed, it was small change compared to the original, and by far most damning piece of evidence she'd managed to recover: A brief holographic clip of the trial, wherein Data had admitted before Picard, Riker, Maddox, and the sector JAG officer what had truly transpired between him and the young woman.

"_She was special to me, sir. We were_..._intimate_."

Tatiyana listened to the words once more, and then shut the computer terminal down entirely, taking a long, hard, and neutral look at this. Armus had been the creature who had killed someone who Data had been significantly attached to. That had produced a certain emotional...instability, that she was worried would make him a risk in the center seat, for the time being. His judgement might prove clouded.

And...even with the entire "Armus" factor inside, there was still the "Tasha" factor - a creature that looked and sounded exactly like Tasha Yar was roaming the ship, bringing up old baggage from the android's past, haunting him. The creature was engaging, as well, in consistent flirtacious behaviour. It was attempting to garner his favor...and it seemed to be working.

All she'd had to do so far was give them co-ordinates - co-ordinates that, despite Karn's assurances, the creature could have made up off the top of its now-very-blonde head - and Data had been content to give it guest quarters in the same segment of the stardrive section as both engineering and environmental control. It was a risky, risky move - Tatiyana had, of course, protested and requested that Armus be moved to the brig. Data insisted that they needed Armus' aid, and that the creature was to be their guest. But...Tatiyana was starting to be concerned that perhaps wasn't himself.

Was he emotionally stable right now? If he had any emotions at all, how could he be, with everything that had happened? She'd heard the outburst in his quarters, she'd heard him yelling out in frustration, but...how would it affect him? And how would it affect their mission?

It wasn't that she didn't like Data - she did. She really and truly did. He was a pleasure to be around, and he had cheered her up significant from the moment that he'd come aboard. She had come to think of him as one of the ship, one of the crew, one of the gang. But...she could not be a security officer and stand by while he was behaving in a way that made him a potential risk. She couldn't do it as his friend, either. She knew that she was going to have to confront him...sooner, or later.

* * *

When Cohl awoke, it was somewhere between 0500 and 0600. She was initially drowsy and sleep-drunk, and was enjoying the gentle hum of the ship's engines, coupled by the occasional trilling of her medical instruments -

Sickbay. She had fallen asleep in sickbay.

Cohl sat up straight, brushing herself off, trying to remember what had happened last. One minute, she'd been here, sitting up late, working on preparations for the funeral with Karn, when -

"Damnit!" she hissed, firing up her computer terminal again. The funeral was in three hours, and she hadn't completed the medical logs, or the outline for the ceremony itself. A cold sweat broke out, and she found herself in the throes of panic. There was no way she'd have it all done in time, now, no way at all -

"Is something the matter, Ensign Cohl?"

At the sound of the soft male voice, Lissa Cohl nearly jumped out of her green skin. She whirled around, pointing a hypo at the speaker threateningly as if it were a phaser. In the dim light of the Sickbay, she spotted Lieutenant Commander Data. She sighed, relieved, and threw the hypospray off to one side of the room, where it crashed harmlessly against the wall.

"Don't do that," she sighed. "I'm sorry, but I have to ask you to leave. I still have to finish the funeral arrangements - "

"According to Ensign Karn," Data observed, "You were working on the funeral arrangements until 0130 hours, when you were subject to understandable fatigue and collapsed. He contacted me, and I proceeded here. We completed work on the ceremony at approximately 0400 hours, so that you could obtain sufficient rest."

Cohl watched him with surprise, but also with a slight twinge of guilt.

"Karn was here until four?" she groaned, feeling extremely badly for having kept her friend up so late, "Oh, God, I'm sorry..."

"There is no need for apology," Data explained, "It was Mister Karn's choice. And with the co-ordinates plotted in by Armus, Karn is no longer required to monitor our flight path. It was not unreasonable for him to have assisted you the way that he did. He will have extra time from his station to rest during today's journey."

Cohl nodded, and when her computer terminal was active, she opened up a copy of the ceremony itself, giving it one last look-over. Most of it was what she'd written, and the remainder was completed in a similar style. It was a simple, almost spartan ceremony, but it was going to be beautiful in its own way. She did, however, notice one item that hadn't been on the schedule previously.

"You're giving a speech?" she asked, surprised.

"I believed it only appropriate," Data explained, "I am the senior officer, and the remaining crews will be looking to me for guidance."

Lissa crossed her arms, in thought, but nodded in agreement after a time.

"Yes, I suppose they do," she sighed, "So, what exactly are you doing here?"

"Working on my speech," Data explained. "I have some up with approximately 17 different outlines, each with up to five variations, and none seem to be sufficient to deliver a message worthy of the tragedy experienced by the crew."

Cohl paused, and chuckled.

"Maybe you should just make something up," she suggested, "Use your feelings."

Data paused, considering the possibility.

"An intriguing prospect," he mused, thinking over the matter further. Eventually, his face brightened, and he seemed to have a vague idea what he would do when the time came. "Thank you, Ensign. Your insight has been most helpful."

Before Cohl could speak again, Data had spun around and walked out the Sickbay doors.

* * *

She was in the corridor, silently, making her way towards the cargo bay where the memorial service was being held, when Tatiyana Chekov noticed the familiar form of the grumbling Lieutenant Wright bumbling along in front of her. He had his hand wrapped, and his hair was still slightly messy - the friz from the electric shocks he'd received from the magnetic interlocks seemed to be sticking around, slightly. The sight brought a chuckle to her in an otherwise very dark moment, and she approached him.

"Lieutenant Vright!" she called, quickening her pace so that she was jogging down the hall.

Wright turned, noticing her, and smiled.

"Tatiyana," he responded, informally, "You headed to the funeral?"

"_Da_," she nodded, somberly. She was wearing her standard duty uniform - it was the closest she had onboard at the moment to a real dress uniform, but it was a lot more...suitable, to the occasion...than the patched, burnt, dishevelled uniform that Wright was wearing. Wright caught her glancing with slight disapproval towards his attire, and frowned a little.

"Look," he started, "I got up at three, because I couldn't sleep. I figured I'd take twenty minutes and fix that faulty replicator on Deck Twelve. Five hours later, I finally get the damned thing to stop spraying darjeeling, whatever the hell that is, all over the deck, walls, and me. And then I get a call from Gallant telling me that the maneuvering thrusters had gone offline, and I ended up crawling through Jeffries tubes with a spengler wrench until about...five minutes ago. Don't judge me."

Despite herself, Tatiyana found herself giggling at the story.

"What?" he snapped, a little taken aback by the laughter, "What?"

"You're funny, meestur Vright," Tatiyana mused, putting a friendly arm around Wright, who seemed to stiffen his posture visibly and uncomfortably. Almost as if he weren't extremely used to female company. "May I valk vith you avhile?"

Wright nodded falling into step with her. He couldn't help noticing that the longer they walked, the darker her expression seemed to become.

"What's wrong?" Wright asked, "Tatiyana?"

Tatiyana seemed to be glancing further down the corridor, her gaze locked on a specific object. Wright glanced forward, past the bodies in the hall, but couldn't quite pick out the target.

"Tatiyana?" he repeated, "What do you - ?"

Before he could finish the sentence, he'd answered his own question. Ahead of them, standing outside the guest quarters on this deck, was a familiar android Lieutenant Commander standing decked out in his full red dress uniform. Tatiyana grumbled a curse to herself, in Russian, when out of the quarters emerged a young woman with blond hair, clothed in a similar, gold, uniform.

"Oh," Wright mumbled, watching with slight interest as Data motioned down the corridor, taking the lead and guiding "Tasha" down the corridor towards the cargo bay. He chuckled to himself, and shook his head in amusement. "It's kind of amusing, actually."

Tatiyana crossed her arms, glaring at him with a slight fire in her eyes.

"Vhat's amusing?" she snapped, "That our keptin's making a 'strange bedfellow' of the creature that almost destroyed the ship?"

"Actually," Wright interrupted, "He's been on the bridge all morning. I kept checking in with him, at regular intervals. No...I meant it's amusing that he emulates human behaviour so well. He's actually trying to be a gentleman," Wright laughed, pointing forward as if motioning to an exhibit in a museum, or a zoo.

Tatiyana paused, glancing over at Wright with a concerned look on her face.

"I'm not so amused," she explained, "They seem to be...spending a lot of time together, don't they?"

Wright shrugged his shoulders, and watched her with puzzlement on his face.

"I don't see what that has to do with anything," he explained, "Cohl and Karn spend a lot of time together, and they're not shagging - "

"Vright!" Tatiyana wailed, "Not so loud!"

Ahead of them, "Tasha" turned around and cast a suspicious glance at both of them, before going back to whatever conversation she was having with Data.

"I just think that she might be..."

"You think she might be what?" Wright pressed.

"I think that she might be taking adwantage of him," Tatiyana finished.

Wright paused a moment, and laughed.

"Impossible," he chuckled.

"How?" Tatiyana asked.

"He's a machine," Wright explained, as if speaking from countless years of experience, "Machines are cold, and calculating, and efficient, and have more self-redundancies and backups than you can imagine. And they've got a superiority complex the likes of which you can't imagine - they're stubborn, and picky, and need to be handled just right. It's all a big conspiracy, see - they're all out to get us organics. I reckon he's just keeping her cozy long enough to get us to the source of those neutrinos."

Tatiyana chuckled.

"For somevun who hates machines vith such a passion, meestur Vright, you certainly have a high opinion of them," she mused, poking him a few times in the arm playfully.

"Oh, machines are grand," Wright explained, "When they work. But they don't like doing it often. And, let me tell you, machines are at their most difficult, their most impossible, and their downright most inconvenient when they're busted up. Engineers, I tell you, we've got the worst job in the fleet."

Tatiyana paused, another thought crossing her mind darkly. She glanced up at Wright, who had turned to face her, with a look of wonder and slight concern.

"So..." she whispered, "Vhat if, meestur Vright...hypothetically speaking, of course...this ship vos being run by vun of those 'busted up' machines?"

Wright considered the implications of her words, shrugged, and placed his hands on his hips.

"Then we're in a lot of trouble," he sighed, "A _lot_ of trouble."

* * *

"Tasha", Armus, was certain when she glanced behind her at the two junior bridge officers that they'd been talking about her. They were watching her, and the young woman in the gold uniform was glaring at her, watching her with the same eyes of a huntress. As much as Armus knew she was superior to the little girl, she found the glance disconcerting. Data had asked her to accompany him to the funeral ceremony for the crews of the _Sutherland_ and the _Rorschach_. No one knew that "Tasha" was the creature who'd attacked them, other than the bridge crew, so for Tasha Yar's physical form to be present during the proceedings was not an issue. The bridge crew, though, would know. And she knew that she was in for some ugly glances today.

Not that it mattered. These were sacrifices that had needed to be made. She'd needed the ship to escape, to reach the Shining Ones. She was getting what she wanted, the Starfleet crew were getting to complete their mission. So a few fleshbags had died along the way - was it all really that bad?

"I still don't see why you insist on dragging me along to this," she snapped.

"When I first spent time around humans," Data explained, "I found...tremendous value in observing them, learning their cultural and social behaviours. I believe that attending the funeral will be a learning experience for you." He was speaking in his usual vague, technical manner. Whether he was genuinely trying to help her, or whether his words had some sort of sarcastic, snide double-meaning Armus couldn't tell. He was confusing her...he was harder to understand, or to read, than the rest of the crew were.

"So..." Armus accused, "What you really mean to say, I'll bet, is that you're hoping I'm going to see all those loaded torpedoes, repent, and change my evil ways."

"That would be a welcome outcome," Data admitted, "However, I am not certain it be a likely possibility."

"What's what supposed to mean?" she spat.

"You have shown a certain...disregard for human life," Data observed, "Statistically, there is a low probability that you would be so influenced in such a short period of time." He continued walking, and Armus followed him, but with a slightly hurt look on her face.

"Ah," she nodded, "Of course."

"It would, however," he interjected, "Be a most...welcome transformation."

So he was hoping for a transformation, was he?

That wasn't going to happen anytime soon.

Truth be told, Armus had been alone for a very, very long time. It had been years since she'd been in the company of other beings, even primitive ones. The way that the only people she knew so far - the bridge crew - stared at her, and scorned her, and seemed to...to hate her, it made her feel very uncomfortable. And not just because her current form was vulnerable, but because...because it made her feel, in certain ways, even more alone than she'd been on Vagra II. Tin Man had been decent to her, so far...but he didn't trust her. At all.

He probably didn't even remember the kiss.

Armus spat a curse under her breath at the thought. That kiss had been a mistake. An impulse. It hadn't even been _her_ impulse, but the impulse of a meddling sub-consciousness, who couldn't keep her own hands to herself. Armus was the one in control right now. Armus was in charge. And Armus wasn't going to allow the emotional responses or the feelings of a background player, in her mind, disrupt the revenge that she'd worked so very, very hard to achieve.

Tasha Yar would _not_ be let loose again. Under no circumstances. And certainly not without a damned good reason.

* * *

Truth be told, Data had placed a significant amount of thought in that kiss, in that embrace. But, more than anything else, what he had thought about were the eyes, and the way they'd flickered. Armus had stated that Tasha's consciousness, in some small way, was active...was there truly a way to let it out? To let it go free? Was there a way to find...to find that person he'd lost, so very long ago?

That kiss had been a sensation that Data hadn't experienced in seven years. There had been the occasional segment of his dream program, or simulated encounter in the holodeck, where he'd managed to experience something similar. He'd kissed other women, on occasion, and experienced similar sensations. But the first kiss he'd experienced...her kiss...had a special place in his memory engrams, and it had set, in its own way, a precedent for all others. He couldn't think of any kiss or any relationship he'd had in the past without, in some way, comparing it to the one he'd had, however brief, with Tasha Yar.

He'd believed long ago that it would never happen again. She was dead, lost forever. But...something had changed in Data with that kiss. Where before there had been hatred towards Armus, despair, even a certain sort of vengeance...now he regarded the creature with a sense of hope. If Armus possessed, truly, a part of Tasha Yar, and a part of who Tasha was...then perhaps the creature could be redeemed. Perhaps it would be as one of them, someday. Perhaps it, too, would embark on a quest to gain its own sort of humanity, like Data had.

That kiss had been something of great significance, and, other than the funeral proceedings themselves and the _Rorschach_'s mission, it was the primary focus of his positronic net, right now. There were so many possibilities...so many questions...but one thing that Data understood now is that there was far more to this creature than he had originally assumed, this creature's with Tasha's face, and her form, and her eyes. There was something much more. Tasha was in there, somewhere...and Data was determined to find a way to get her out.

He just had to know more. He had to learn more.

They reached a set of large doors in the corridor, and crewmen from all over the ship were piling through it, steadily. Data walked through it, motioning for Armus to follow.

"Please come with me," he asked.

She nodded, watching the crew around her warily, and stepped into the room behind him. Crew of every shape, size, race, division color, and nationality were standing in the cargo bay, organized into neat ranks and files before a dais, which had a set of five steps leading up to it. It was a makeshift stage which Karn and Data had put together themselves, with this event in mind, at about three in the morning the night before. Lissa Cohl was already seated next to Merrith Karn, who was seated next to -

"I have to leave," Armus mumbled, starting to retreat.

"He will not recognise you," Data explained, "And...I do wish for you to be present."

Holtz noticed Data stepping into the bay from the corridor, and noticed the young woman he'd brought along with him. He raised one of his half-Vulcan eyebrows in mild astonishment. Stories of ambassadors like Sarek marrying human women were common - Holtz' own father, after all, had himself been a Vulcan scientist. But...for an android to travel in the company of a human woman was a most fascinating and intriguing prospect.

"I was in his head," Armus whispered blankly, "I...I'm sure he'll recognize me."

"And I am certain he will not unless it is made evident to him," Data explained, "Please follow me."

Armus paused, torn between following Data up to the platform and returning to her quarters. She didn't exactly relish, however, the idea that she'd be in her quarters alone, while the whole rest of the crew was present at the funeral.

Come to think of it...the whole crew, other than a few on skeleton crew duty, were present. Maybe Data _hadn't_ asked her to come here for her own benefit - maybe he had asked her here because he didn't trust her. While she found the thought disconcerting, she followed along behind him, having made her choice, as he moved towards the dais.

When they reached the steps, he did something that took her very much by surprise.

He reached out a hand to her, in a most warm...friendly, welcoming fashion.

"Tasha" felt herself blushing slightly, her face reddening, but the feeling passed quickly. She frowned up at him, coldly.

"That's funny," she mused, "I asked you for a hand just standing up in the Observation Lounge, and you didn't seem to be such a gentleman then."

Data paused, and half-frowned.

"Perhaps my actions were...premature," he carried on, "Will you allow me to assist you, now?"

Armus smirked, took his hand, and let him guide her up the steps. She turned, glancing over her shoulder, just as the Chekov girl stepped into the room. She saw the horror and silent fury on the security chief's face, and couldn't resist throwing her back a wink. Tatiyana's scowl only deepened, much to Armus' amusement.

Data seated in the center, beside Holtz. Armus was seated to Data's left. Tatiyana sat to Armus' left, and Wright finally took a seat at Tatiyana's left. The last to enter the room was Gallant, who took a seat at the end of the row of senior officers. The tension in the air between Armus and Tatiyana was so thick that one could have practically cut it with a knife - Tatiyana was visibly angered by having to sit next to Armus, and Armus was slightly put off herself by such proximity to Tatiyana.

Data didn't seem to notice that either of the two had a significant problem with each other at all. In some ways, this flustered Armus. It also flustered Tatiyana.

Wright just watched the two sitting side by side, Chekov and Armus, and watched them grow more and more uncomfortable with that proximity, though neither one actually wanted to break the ice or speak. He shrugged, crossed his arm, and threw a sideways glance over at Gallant.

"Women," he mouthed, in a sigh. Gallant simply chuckled and nodded, dryly.

After a few moments, when the assembled crew had quieted down, Data stood, and moved towards the center of the dais, where there was a slightly raised platform and a podium.

"I have called you all here today to celebrate the lives...and the legacies...of the eighteen men and women who died in battle aboard the _USS Rorschach_," he began, "And...we are also gathered to acknowledge of the sacrifice made by the crew of the _USS Sutherland_. Specifically, her acting captain, Christopher Hobbes, and over three hundred men, women, and transgendered species who were slain during the attack." The crew were watching him, their eyes glued on him, and the eyes of the senior staff were focused on the android as well. Data didn't seem to be terribly bothered by this, but did seem to be making an effort to appeal to the crew.

His face turned into a half-frown, and he grimaced with the next several words, their impact bringing up a swelling of old emotions, coursing through his positronic brain. "The death of a single comrade can have a profound impact on one's life," Data explained, "And, at losing a single member of one's crew...a part of one's family...one can feel disoriented. It is not surprising that I have noted grief and despair among many of you over the last twenty-four hours, based on the sheer number of our colleagues that we have lost. Our lives, as Starfleet officers and sentient beings alike, will never be the same following these events, and these losses." He paused, standing up straighter, and watching the crew, each of them, one at a time.

"Grief is not unreasonable. Those we lost in battle were more than comrades, more than crewmates. They were our friends. In whatever way we can, we must grieve for them. But we must, too, celebrate the life they lived. We must understand that while we have faced a great tragedy...we will face even greater tragedy if we fail to safeguard that which these faithful friends of ours gave their lives to protect." He paused, glancing down at the podium for a moment, sighing. "I am no stranger to loss. However...it is my firm belief that if we cannot allow ourselves to give in, or surrender. Those who have been lost were lost so that we might survive...and if we allow ourselves, or others like us, to be destroyed, then we make that sacrifice meaningless. Let us...honor those who have given themselves up for us. And let us not ever forget what they have done."

Armus listened to the lines, and her eyes shimmered once more, fading back to that light blue color. She recoiled, slightly, placing a hand over her face and scowling.

"Not now..." she whispered, "Not...now..."

Tatiyana half-glanced over in confusion, not sure what to make of the movement, but then turned, dismissing Armus and continuing to watch Data.

A trumpeter stepped forward, from the ranks, and stood near the dais. The torpedoes containing the bodies weren't actually housed in the cargo bay - the firing mechanisms were all in the weapons pod, and since space in that area was limited the ceremony had been adapted accordingly. Data tapped a panel on the dais, and the image of the orange gas clouds of the Pavel Nebula drifted by on a large viewscreen behind him. The trumpeter started to play an old Irish war tune, one which Data hadn't heard played at a formal military event in years, but one which seemed strangely appropriate right now. As he did, Data manually set a course for the torpedoes - straight into the heart of the nebula itself, a veritable burial at sea.

"Lieutenant Commander Christopher Hobbes," Data spoke, as the first torpedo fired, "Commanding Officer, USS Sutherland." A red light burst onto the screen - the image of a photon torpedo in flight - and it vanished into the depths of the nebula after only a few seconds. Holtz sighed, deeply, saying a silent farewell to the friend he'd lost.

Armus was watching the screen as well. She'd assumed that sitting here, watching blinking lights fly off into space, was going to make for a boring morning. She hadn't anticipated that she would find the ceremony so...emotionally powerful. The speech, of course, had only been the start. Data had spoken personally about loss...about losing a close friend...and the statement had brought Tasha Yar just a little closer up to the surface of consciousness. Armus was, at the moment, having an incredibly difficult time restraining her. As they watched, together the torpedoes fly, Armus found that new emotions were starting to flood in. Emotions that had never been there before.

It watched, one by one, as the little red lights blinked out, and listened as Data read out each of the names. Each one had been an individual with a place as part of this crew, as part of this family. Each of them had something special and unique to offer. These feeble humans, though still weak-minded and spirited creatures, were content because they were not alone. They had community, and they had kinship. Losing someone or something they loved...it must have been like when Armus had been left behind by the Shining Ones. She couldn't stop remembering the way she had felt the deaths of Tasha Yar, Christopher Hobbes, and all of the others...but Armus also found that she was very afraid. She didn't know what it was going to be like, how it was going to feel. She wanted to live...she didn't want to die. She didn't want to face what all these crewmen had already felt.

...what they had already felt at her expense...

Tatiyana watched a single tear roll down a blue eye, as Armus bit down on her lower lip. Tatiyana was immediately suspicious, wondering what Armus had to gain from such a deception, or if this was just another attempt to trick or manipulate Data. Data was occupied, though...her behaviour didn't make sense. At all. She was breathing deeply and heavily, and seemed to be slightly...distraught. Tatiyana couldn't trust, though, that she was displaying her true emotions. No...Tatiyana wasn't about to let Armus do what she'd already done to Hobbes and all those other poor souls ever again.

The song ended, and after a moment of silence, Data addressed the crew once more.

"Let us not forget," Data spoke, simply. "Dismissed."

With that, he turned, about to descend from the dais with Armus. He noticed that Gallant and Wright were watching, curiously, as a young woman with blond hair made her own way down the dais, towards the corridor. Just before she disappeared into the hallway, she turned, throwing one last hopeless glance to Data, with tears running down her cheeks.

Blue. Tasha's eyes were blue.

He couldn't leave, though, until the whole rest of the senior staff had left. It wasn't just standard procedure...in a case like this, it was a matter of respect, for those who had fallen. Data watched as the senior staff stood, and made their own way off the platform. Cohl and a very tired-looking Karn stepped past him, Cohl smiling at him gratefully.

"Thank you, Commander," she spoke, "That was...beautiful."

"Your advice in Sickbay was most helpful, Ensign," he responded, "And Mister Karn, thank you for your assistance."

"Mmm," Karn grunted, having a difficult time keeping his eyes open.

"Now, come on, you," Lissa piped up, dragging Karn along behind her, "Straight to bed for you. Chief Medical Officer's orders."

The two disappeared from the room, leaving a still-very-worried Data alone on the dais with Holtz.

Holtz approached him, made a Vulcan salute, and stepped off of the platform, at a loss for any other words right now.

When his staff had left, and he was confident that his duty here was done, Data descended and started to break into a light run down the corridor, making his way towards a specific set of guest quarters.


	19. XIX: Enemies

**You have my sincere apologies for taking so long to update this story. To be perfectly honest, the **_**Rorschach**_** versus **_**Sutherland**_** showdown and the introduction of Armus took up so much of my writing mojo that I was spent by the time it got to the "Crystal Gorge" chapters. I went on a bit of a hiatus...took a recharge break...watched a few TNG eppys...and now, I think I'm back. Expect me to update regularly again now. The story's about halfway done.**

**As I usually do, I have comments for the readers who have been good enough to grant me feedback. **

**Kaiba-Kun - I'm pleased that you're still following the story, and I'm glad you liked this chapter. Data as president? Hmm...this sounds like another story idea...shoot, now I have MORE stuff to work on! xD Kidding. Although...if I ever do get bored...that might be a neat one to write...or you could write it, and I'll review one of YOUR stories! ^^**

**Clio Trismegista - I really and truly hope I spelled your username right - my brain is mush right now. I'm glad you liked the battle scenes - admittedly, those take up the most of my energy, I find, and while they're hard as hell to write at first I find they usually turn out better than anything else. I'm glad your review was so constructive, and looking back at the story I agree - the quick warmth is a little disconcerting. I've tried to make it as reasonable as I can...but I'm human, I suppose. Prick me, do I not...leak? ^^; I will definitely keep your suggestions in mind as I write future chapters, and I hope you'll be good enough to review again. The constructive criticism is very helpful.**

**Anybody else who reads this story and would like to submit a comment, I'd be glad to hear from you.**

**And now...without further ado...**

_Enemies_

The door opened to the darkened quarters, lit only by the trailing edge of the Pavel Nebula, drifting into nothingness as the _USS Sutherland-Rorschach_ made its way forward, towards the Crystal Gorge. This was the first time they'd seen the normal, black void of space in hours. Yet, the room's occupant found that darkness, that nothingness, daunting. The room's only occupant.

An occupant who, for the first time in seven years, was in control. Someone who was very much alive, her thought patterns and memories...her katra and soul, as a Vulcan might observe...kept active in the body of the enigmatic, malevolent creature that had come to be known as Armus. To have known that she was dying, struck by the creature on Vagra II, to feel her life force drifting away...that was one thing. But for years, she'd only known life through the pale window of the creature's consciousness. It had all been like a long, uncomfortable sleep...and now, for the first time, she felt fully awake. For the time being, Armus was gone. Locked away. Kept somewhat at bay. Right now, Tasha Yar needed time...she needed to exist, to breathe. To come to terms with what the creature had done...what she'd done, as an accomplice.

Her memories and her thoughts had allowed the creature to hijack the _USS Icarus_, and then the _USS Sutherland_. Her knowledge had allowed it to come as far as it had before it had found itself in a checkmate, a position from which it couldn't worm its way out. She was grateful to Data for having beaten Armus, a creature calling on the combined knowledge of four Starfleet officers, a creature manipulating an entire crew; at the same time, though, she felt ashamed for having played so...significant...a part in the deaths of almost twenty people on the _Rorschach_, and three hundred or more on the _Sutherland_.

Good old Data had saved their lives. She had been an accessory to murder. She couldn't stand to look him in the eye right now. For years, she'd dedicated her life as a security officer to saveguarding the lives and liberties of Federation citizens, and other Starfleet officers...and all the work that she'd put herself through, her whole life, had been blown away in the course of a few days. It hadn't happened intentionally, of course - one never intends to break, to give in, to let their will be washed away. Seven years...seven years on Vagra II...by the time it was done, it was as if Starfleet, the Federation, all of it, had just been a dreamland. What had pulled her out of it? Data's words? The sight of all those torpedoes, floating out into space? Or the realization that she'd been the one who'd put them all out there in the first place?

When she looked in the window, she could see her own reflection. She could see her own eyes, her own face, her own body wearing a uniform that was distinctly hers. A uniform whose collar was damp, thank to the fast, hot fall of tears from her sky-blue eyes. Her arms were crossed, and she was trying not to look towards the doorway. She knew who was standing there - there were, after all, only a few officers aboard who would have had the security necessary to gain access.

"I locked the door for a reason," she rasped, hoarsely as she cleared her throat. "Please...leave."

She expected to hear Data's usual monotone calling to her from the back of the room, near the open door. Instead, she was surprised to hear the voice of a man she remembered only from the day before, when she had stood on the battle bridge listening to his distinct, dignified, unquestionably Vulcan voice.

"Grief is illogical," Holtz spoke, from the far side of the room, stroking his beard, "And...you failed to lock the door. It would seem that your emotions cloud your judgement."

Her eyes were wide, and Tasha kept her back to the door. She couldn't face Holtz right now. Not after what she'd done to him, and what Armus had done to the people on his ship.

_Let me out...let me out!_

She forced the sound of Armus' enraged cries down, into the back of her mind, and swallowed nervously. Holtz had more reason than anyone on this ship right now to fear her, to hate her...and, in her current state and predicament, she felt incredibly afraid of him.

"I guess I'm not a very logical being," she answered. How much did Holtz know? How much did he understand, about her and her unique relationship to the creature Armus? Damnit, she _was_ Armus! How could Holtz be standing here, talking to her, knowing what she'd done?

Data had said that Holtz knew nothing. To him, she was just another officer. She would have to play that part to the best of her abilities.

"I suppose not," Holtz sighed, "But, then...none of us truly are, are we?"

_He'd ask less stupid questions if he was dead_, Armus hinted, from within. _Let me out, and I'd be glad to fix that..._

Tasha raised a hand to her forehead, silently urging Armus to go away for just a little longer. She turned, wiping her eyes, and faced Holtz as best she could. She couldn't meet his gaze.

"What are you doing here, Lieutenant?" she asked, as politely as she could.

"I assume you are one of this vessel's senior staff," Holtz explained, "We will likely be working together shortly, for a time at least."

Tasha chuckled, darkly. He couldn't be more wrong. She wasn't one of Data's staff, she was the thorn in their sides that had been nagging at them since the _Icarus_ had landed on Vagra II. She wished, in a sick way, that she could tell Holtz the truth...that she could let it out. But she was still very afraid of this man, and of what he could do. He seemed to be kind to her for the moment, though...perhaps it wouldn't hurt to talk just a little.

"I'm just visiting," she explained honestly, "I'll probably be gone shortly after this mission is completed."

"As will your captain," he remarked, "The android. A remarkable individual. As a tactical officer, I admit I applaud the tactics he employed in the nebula. I wish only that they had proven not quite so effective." He frowned, moving his hands behind his back in an almost at-ease gesture. "I realize, however, that he did only what had to be done. The creature that attacked our vessel was...disconcerting, to say the least."

_You have no idea_, Tasha wanted to reply, biting back the response with slight difficulty.

"I am satisfied with the knowledge that the creature seems to have been contained," Holtz explained, "And...from what I understand, so far, of this ship's mission parameters, our present engagement is of great importance."

Tasha tried to avoid talking about Armus...about the monster lurking inside of her mind, right now. The monster whose body she was wearing.

"It is," she responded, "And...I hope I see you around. But...right now...I think I need to be alone."

Holtz nodded, almost sagely.

"I came because you appeared troubled," Holtz explained, "I was concerned for you. If you would prefer that I left, I would be glad to - "

"Lieutenant Holtz," a distinct, almost monotonous android voice called from the still-open doors to the corridor, "I did not...anticipate meeting you here."

Holtz glanced at the android, then back at the young woman, and then smiled. Holtz was half-human after all, and had a feeling when he'd spotted the two officers before that there was a certain closeness about them that he didn't see often aboard the confines of a starship. He nodded to Tasha, and raised his hand in a Vulcan salute.

"Live long and prosper, Lieutenant," he spoke, turning and stepping into the corridor. On his way out, Holtz patted Data on the shoulder almost reassuringly.

Data paused, slightly confused by the gesture, but made his way into the quarters. The doors closed behind him, and there was darkness again. The dim orange glow of the last of the Pavel Nebula lit up Tasha Yar's silhouette in a way that Data found...intriguing. He couldn't see her eyes...he couldn't see her face, right now, in this dim light. But he found her figure...pleasant to watch. He swallowed, almost nervously, and spoke.

"You left early," he remarked.

Tasha didn't reply, but turned back towards the window, almost as if she was ignoring him.

No, not ignoring him. There was something else in her stance. Calling upon the knowledge of several behavioural psychologists and counsellors in the files contained within his positronic mind, but also using his own experience and stored memory engrams of Natasha Yar, which were themselves most extensive, Data determined that it was more likely that she was simply...frightened. Alone. Uncertain. There were several different possible extrapolations.

He stepped forward, closer to her.

"Don't," she rasped.

He paused, raising an eyebrow, his face the image of confusedness.

"Armus," he spoke, "I had, as we discussed prior to the ceremony, hoped that the emotional content of the funeral might prove to be enlightening for you, but I did not anticipate such a profound - "

"Stop!"

Before Data knew it, a lamp that had been standing on a little table next to the window was in midair, moving rapidly towards him. His reaction time was flawless, and he managed to bend backward just soon enough to keep the item from smashing into his face. He leaned back upward, his face still looking just as hopeless and lost as it had a moment earlier.

"I do not understand - " he started, but was quickly cut off once again. She whirled around, and while he couldn't see her eyes, he could tell that she was standing rather...aggressively.

"Stop calling me that," she snapped, "I hate that name. I hate everything it is, everything it represents. I...I hate being controlled."

Data paused for a moment, the sight of her blue eyes in the cargo bay still very visible in his mind's eye. He was hopeful that...that, perhaps, part of Tasha was speaking, right now. He knew it was most unlikely...but hoped, slightly, nonetheless. He stepped forward once more.

"Tasha...?" he asked.

"Come another step closer," she snapped, reaching for her phaser, "And I'll put a hole in you a good six inches wide." Her voice was cracking, as if she were at the point of tears. Or, perhaps, like she'd already been there and was struggling not to cry again. "Don't."

Data paused, not certain what to say next.

"Is it...you, Tasha?" he asked, simply.

She waited a good, long time, before responding. Mostly because she really wasn't sure.

"I don't know," she snapped, "Tasha Yar's body is a corpse, floating out in space near Vagra II in some godawfully cold torpedo because there wasn't a family alive to give her a proper burial on Turkana IV. I'm a memory engram, trapped in the body of the slime monster that just blew up a space station, hijacked a Federation starship, and killed three hundred people, on top of everything else. And it did it with my help. Whoever I am." She stepped towards him, glancing up at him angrily, almost furiously. "Am I Tasha Yar? I don't know. I really don't. But whoever the hell I am, I'm not too proud of myself right now."

Data winced, his mouth wide open for a moment, and then answered.

"Tasha Yar's memories are present in you, are they not?" he asked.

She scoffed, still sounding very upset. "What does that have to do with anything?" she spat, "You have the knowledge of four hundred Federation colonists and scientists. That doesn't make you Noonien Soong."

"But I am the realization of Soong's dream," Data explained, "Because I am alive, part of him...his legacy...survives. Doctor Soong lives through me, and it is my hope that a part of him will always continue to live through me. In the same regard...because you possess Tasha's memories, part of her...part of someone I...someone who was significant to me...will always live on. She lives through you, as Doctor Soong lives through me."

"It's not the same," Tasha sighed, crossing her arms, and looking away.

Data approached her, and placed a hand softly on her shoulder. It seemed like an...appropriate gesture, given the circumstances.

"You feel guilty," Data noted, "You should not. Armus was responsible for - "

"Armus, Tasha, what's the difference?" she snapped, "How do you know it was Armus? How do you know I'm not Armus? Damnit, Data, the fact that you're here, talking with me right now, is giving her...him...it...whatever...you're giving Armus the rope it's going to need to hang you with later. You'd be better off just dumping me out an airlock, somewhere, where I can't do anymore harm."

Data paused, still holding onto her shoulder, but slowly turned her around. Now, in the pale reflection of the orange gas clouds, he could see her eyes. They were unmistakeably Tasha Yar's eyes. Wherever Armus was...it was not here. She was back. She was alive. She was...she was here.

"I could not," Data explained, his voice soft. "When I believed that you had died on Vagra II...that you would not return...your loss was most noticeable. I had become...used to you. You were special to me."

"I can't let you risk four hundred lives, and the outcome of this mission, on that," she answered, trying to look away from him, "I can't. If this doesn't work, if Armus double-crosses you again, I'll never forgive - "

"And I will never forgive myself if I allow you to be lost again," Data spoke.

The two of them, in the fading light, watched each others' eyes for a good, long time. Data, despite the reocurrence of Tasha Yar in his dream program, had never imagined that he would have the chance to see her again...to speak to her again. To be so near to her again. There was so much he wanted to tell her, so very much that he wanted to say. His emotion chip had never felt such a...high. This was all more than he ever could have hoped for.

As for Tasha Yar...she wasn't sure what to think right now. She'd convinced herself, years ago, that the android was an emotionless, stoic pile of nuts and bolts. She'd believed that their intimacy had just been a simple matter of the android carrying out a programmable function, no more complicated or fascinating in his eyes than running a game of solitaire, or reviewing technical schematics. The way he was watching her...the way his gaze seemed to pierce through her, into her...it was a look that she never imagined he'd be capable of, even in simple emulation.

They watched each other...and the glow of the nebula faded to the darkness of space.

They weren't certain who started it, or how it happened...but after a few seconds, their lips touched softly, in a tender second kiss. This time, there wasn't the hesitation or the fear on Data's part that there had been last time. This time, Tasha Yar could feel genuinely the joy and gentleness she'd asked of him years ago...and, just maybe, love.

The embrace continued a few moments longer, warm and beautiful, and Data was just starting to move his arms around her waist when, abruptly, the kiss stopped.

One second, Tasha's hand was on his throat.

The next, Data had been flung, like a ragdoll, across the room.

There was a loud, and almost deafening crash. Incidentally, an ensign in the corridor nearly jumped out of their skin when a deep, android-shaped dent appeared in the bulkhead.

Data tumbled to the ground, a few patches of his synthetic skin torn off the electronic components blinking within his face. He glanced up at Tasha, his expression initially one of confusion, but when Tasha stepped forward, just barely, he could tell from her very stance that something had changed.

Armus was back. And visibly angry.

"Let's get something settled right here and now, Tin Man," she snapped, a deep echo in her voice, "You're not going to change me. You're not going to fix me. There is no redemption for one like me. Only revenge. And as for Tasha Yar...she is an echo. An echo of a very, very dead woman."

Armus stepped forward, as Data stood up, and pressed a finger to his chest, glaring up at him.

"If you ever touch me like that again...I'll kill you," she snapped, "Is that clear?"

Data nodded, his expression hardening.

"Very clear. It appears, thus, that we have little more to discuss," he spoke, sharply. He turned, towards the door, taking just a long enough moment to throw her a fleeting glance. Tasha was in there, somewhere...he just had to find a way to reach her. To bring her out again.

"I am not your friend," Armus snapped, "Nor will I ever be, Tin Man."

"Then...I re-iterate," Data spoke, retreating for the time being, "We have little more, at the present time, to discuss." He stepped out the door, which opened as he moved past it and into the hall. "I will be on the bridge."

When Data had upset Tasha, she'd picked up a lamp from a table and thrown it at him. Armus just threw the whole damned table.

Fortunately, by the time it made contact, the doors to the corridor had already closed. Bits and pieces of table crashed harmlessly to the ground, in several pieces. Armus clutched her head, her eyes black not only in the pupils, but where the whites of her eyes had been as well.

"You stay there," Armus howled, "Do you _hear_ me? You stay in there, or I'll kill them all!"

* * *

Data stood outside Armus' quarters for a few moments, trying to determine how best to proceed next. On one hand...Tasha was right. Armus was a threat, and a risk. As a commanding officer, he couldn't let his guard down around the creature again. He couldn't. For the sake of the crew, and for the sake of Earth, he had to put aside his own feelings for the good of the mission.

At the same time, however...he knew that Tasha was alive, now, if only in some small way. He had to reach her. He had to save her. He wanted...very, very badly...not to lose her again. And he had a terrible feeling that if Armus was left to its own devices, and tried to take over the ship like it had seized the _Sutherland_...this journey could very quickly turn into a disaster. There was much to consider...much to thinking about, and much to debate. If only there was a way...

"_Bridge of Lieutenant Commander Data,"_ hissed Data's commbadge, in a tinny whine as Gallant tried to reach him, "_We have cleared the Pavel Nebula. ETA to Crystal Gorge is less than two hours."_

Data paused, tapped his badge, and responded.

"Acknowledged," he answered, "Have Lieutenant Chekov bring us to Yellow Alert, and have all hands man emergency stations."

"_Aye, sir_," was Gallant's only answer before the channel closed.

Data was about to continue to the bridge, when his commbadge trilled again. This time, the voice on the other end of the transmission was a great deal less formal and a great deal more flustered. Unmistakably, it was Chief Engineer Wright.

"_Wright to Data!"_ the man grumbled, "_We've got a problem with the deflector shields. A big one!"_

Data paused, considering the statement, and tapped his commbadge as he responded.

"I will proceed to Engineering," Data answered, matter-of-factly, "Once there, we can hopefully discuss your grievance further."

"_Bring a friend!"_ Wright snapped, "_Our resident mad Deltan scientist's going to want to take a look at this."_

* * *

The optical chips and power relays of the Jefferies Tube on Deck 14, right outside main engineering, were strewn all across its innards, as three Starfleet officers, one each in red, gold, and blue, scurried their way through the passageway to where the remnants of a console were sparking, hissing, and spitting smoke everywhere. The officer leading the other two, a young, human engineer in a black and gold disheveled jumpsuit, grumbled to himself under his breath as they moved closer and closer to where the main power conduit to deflector control had blown.

Merrith Karn looked concerned, and more so than usual. Every few steps of his crawl he'd stop, glancing over a PADD in his hand two or three times, and then glancing up at Wright as if hoping the Chief Engineer would change his mind on the observations he'd made. All three officers had just come from Engineering, where Wright had explained that their journey into the Crystal Gorge would be met with one more...minor...complication. Minor, in Karn's opinion, if it could be fixed. If, however, it turned out that Wright couldn't repair this particular relay...they were dead in the water.

"This still doesn't make any sense," Karn called up, to Wright.

Jace Wright turned, with that usual slightly unstable twitch in his eye as he spoke.

"Try telling her that!" he snarled, pointing accusingly towards the smoldering pile of chips and wires ahead, "This old gal's been beaten up, down, and sideways. Frankly, I'm surprised, with her track record, that the little trollop didn't give out on us sooner."

Data, who was at the rear of the trio, paused in his approach and cocked his head slightly to one side.

"I question the choice of gender that you have assigned to this particular relay," Data explained, "As while a vessel in many historical and literary texts dating back to Earth's renaissance and the following rise of mercantilism depict sailing ships as having female properties, a component such as a power conduit could surely not possess anatomical parts that would allow a sufficient comparison to be drawn between - "

"Lord, have mercy," Wright groaned, pressing a palm to his face as the android continued to babble. After a few seconds, the three officers were crouched directly beside the relay, and Wright was pointing through the main broken lines that should have been connecting the ship's main computer core and power core to the main deflector shields. Cutting Data off abruptly in mid-sentence, Wright pointed to the widest break.

"This is normally where the main power would connect to deflector control," he explained, "But all those hits we took while Captain Positron and the slime monster from hell were playing with their shiny toy boats knocked it all out. Specifically, it knocked out the redundant lines on Decks 12 and 13, which meant that three conduits' worth of power was running through a single line. It overloaded, and fried."

Karn glanced down, grimacing, studying the PADD in front of him one more time.

"But we have backup relays," Karn suggested, "Auxiliary power couplings. Won't those hold up?"

"In regular spaceflight?" Wright scoffed, "Sure. In a fight with Orion pirates? Maybe. But if we go into the Crystal Gorge with our deflector shields running off of power from auxiliary couplings, they'll be tearing some right awful chunks out of our hull. I'd lay odds that they'd rip the warp nacelles right off their struts."

Karn glanced at the schematics that Wright had given him, but then switched the PADD back to his original display of the flight path into the Crystal Gorge. He had the flight path, had the shortest and safest route, and knew that this was the only way that they were going to get to the source of the neutrino emissions on time. He'd been running continuous sensor scans since they'd dropped out of the Pavel Nebula, and the emissions had nearly quadrupled in intensity and amplitude. Wherever the source was, it was close. Frighteningly close.

Their mission was virtually in arm's reach, if they could only get through this little sector. This little patch. And Karn's mind was reeling, looking for the answer right now. They were going to need a way to survive in the Gorge, without ending stuck adrift by the time they reached the other side.

Data frowned, glancing over at Karn.

"I have reviewed your flight plan, Mister Karn" Data explained, "There is a high concentration of crystalline substances whose composition would be most abrasive to the hull. In the event that we were forced to traverse it without deflector shields, much of the primary and secondary hull would be compromised. Outer decks would likely decompress, and structural integrity would be at severe risk."

"You don't have to tell me twice," Karn groaned, "I know. I've been working on this plan since Maddox had me track the emissions in the first place. But...there's no way around. Not that would get us there in time. The sector is just too wide. This is the shortest path through."

The three officers crouched by the sparking console in silence, for a moment, their reverie broken only by the sound, every few seconds, of the hissing console spitting out more smoke. Wright eventually became flustered with the sound, and leaned over with his spengler wrench in hand.

"Shut up already!" he snapped. He smacked the conduit firmly, to which it responded by sputtering and dying, thick black smoke now creeping out. Wright shook his head, crossed his arms, and glanced with an expression of hopelessness back at Karn. "Well...I guess that's game over."

Karn paused, struggling as best he could to come up with a contingency plan or an idea. Nothing. There was absolutely nothing they could do now. Without a working shield, they'd be dead in the water within minutes of entering the Crystal Gorge. At this rate, they'd be better off just heading back to Earth, and waiting for the source of the neutrino emissions there. Assuming, of course, that the _USS Sutherland-Rorschach_ didn't get lost in the Pavel Nebula again, on its way out. At least they'd probably be back in time to watch the light show as their planet was turned into a dumping ground for black, slimy aliens. Karn shuddered at the thought, but frowned knowing that, at this point, there really wasn't an awful lot they could do about it.

"Tractor beam," Karn suggested, "We reconfigure it for use as a repulsor."

"Not going to happen. Tractor beams run through the same power conduit that deflector controls do," Wright groaned, "Inventor must have worked incredibly hard to create a ship with such a useless, faulty, lousy power grid."

The console spat out flames, and Wright silenced it after a few seconds with a few quick smacks with the business end of the wrench.

"You behave yourself, or I'll strip you down for waste disposal parts," he growled at the machine. He turned, glancing back over at Karn and Data. "Anyway...tractor beams and deflector control use the same relays, at the same junctions. Which means we're still stuck right where we started off. No shield."

The three officers pondered the situation awhile longer. Data was especially deep in thought. He refused to let the mission end, now, like this. He refused to let all that had happened to this ship and crew be in vain. He refused to surrender Earth, and he refused to stop before he could see Maddox' dream through to the end. They had come too far to be stopped by something simple.

All they had was the ship itself, with simple structural integrity fields. No shields, no tractor beam. Every defensive measure that they possessed at this point was useless – it wasn't going to get them through in one piece.

It wasn't...going to...get them through...

...one piece...

...two pieces...

Yes, that was it. That was it exactly.

Suddenly Data twitched. His golden eyes were wide, and a little wild, and he had the expression of one who had just stumbled upon the answer to a great conundrum. It was the same wild expression he'd had on the bridge, the day before, when he'd started flinging shuttlecraft and shipwrecks alike at the _Sutherland_.

"Mister Wright," Data asked, "How extensive is the damage to the saucer section's impulse drive?"

Wright motioned to Karn for the PADD. Spotting the gesture, Karn quickly tossed it over. Wright caught it, and started to scroll through it, bringing up a list of all the _Rorschach _and _Sutherland_'s damaged systems.

"It's not bad, by comparison," he sighed, "This power relay here would take about a full day to fix...and another day to get the power grid back up and running. Impulse would probably only take me an hour...two, tops, if I had a full crew on it. But that doesn't do us any good right now."

Before Wright could say so much as another word, Data had turned and was on his way out of the turbolift, calling out to them as he moved.

"Lieutenant Wright, you will have all available teams proceed with repairs to the impulse drive, and then you will join me in the Observation Lounge," he ordered, "Mister Karn, alert the senior staff. There will be a briefing for all divisions in precisely fifteen minutes."

Wright raised and flailed his arms over his head in frustration, his eyes wide with disbelief at what he was hearing. The android had obviously cooked up another scheme, just like the one he'd cooked up when he'd almost blown them all up. If yesterday had been any indication, Wright was going to be on damage control duty until doomsday.

"What?" Wright hollered, "Why?"

"Proceed with repairs," Data barked, twice as loudly as before, "That is an order, Lieutenant!"

Wright's grip around the PADD tightened, to the point where the screen cracked.

"_Interface disabled_," the little handheld device reported, "_Please attempt input again later._"

Wright just growled as he watched Data step out of the Jefferies Tube and into the hall. He turned, after a long, deep sigh, and glanced towards Karn with the pieces of the PADD in one hand, and his spengler wrench in the other.

"Machines," Wright mumbled, "I...hate...machines..."

Karn just rolled his eyes, turned, and also headed for the corridor.

* * *

"You can't be serious," Wright groaned.

No one gathered in the Observation Lounge - what little of it Armus had left in one piece anyway - was terribly surprised that Lieutenant Wright had been the first to voice an objection. Wright, after all, was known among the crew for being a tad short with the ship, and short with his engineering staff. The dumbfounded looks that most of the assembled crew were directing towards the front of the room, though, showed that they were surprised at the suggestion that Data had just made. Wright wasn't the only one who was slightly put off by the idea, by a long shot.

"I am quite serious," Data responded.

The room was dimly lit, as several of the lights had been knocked out yesterday when Armus had thrown furniture all about the inside of the lounge. One the left side of the table, Cohl, Karn, and Holtz were seated. On the other side sat Chekov, Wright, and Gallant. Gallant and Holtz seemed to be taking this all in quite neutrally, and Karn seemed to be stroking his chin, musing over the idea with a bizarre, innately scientific fascination.

Cohl seemed aversed to the idea, but seemed to be keeping her mouth shut and her arms crossed. Wright had a palm over his face, already picturing in his mind's eye the sheer consequences of Data's plan on his work schedule for the next several weeks. It looked like it was going to mean overtime on repairs until retirement.

Tatiyana, though...she looked more angered than anyone in the room. Partly because of the new proposal...but also because she knew that, regardless of how this new plan unfolded, she had to talk to her acting captain. Now.

Data glanced back and forth between his senior staff, his face bearing a genuine look of concern.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, curiously, "Perhaps a flaw in my reasoning that you would care to point out, Lieutenant Wright? Lieutenant Karn?"

The two men glanced back and forth at each other, from across the table. Karn had an almost optimistic gleam in his eyes, and Wright seemed to be trapped in his usual doomsaying mood, placing both hands over his face and sighing deeply.

"Frankly," Wright muttered, "I can't begin to tell you on how many levels I think this is a bad idea."

"I think it's brilliant," Karn smiled, chuckling lightly. He glanced over, nudging Holtz, who was reviewing a PADD with the new flight plan and specifications. "What do you think?"

"It is my vessel that would be required to perform the...bulk of the work," Holtz mused, "But Lieutenant Commander Data has pointed out a logical course of action. By using the saucer section of the _USS Sutherland_ to clear a path through the Crystal Gorge, and keeping the _USS Rorschach_ in its wake, the only debris that would collide with the shields of the stardrive section would be too small to do any significant damage. It would effectively mean that the stardrive section would be able to traverse the sector unscathed."

Cohl seemed to contemplate the whole mess for awhile, before glancing up with a look of defeat on her face.

"I've resigned myself to the fact that we're seeing this through," she spoke, "So...if it will supposedly reduce casualties, and keep most of the crew safe on the stardrive section, I'm all for it."

Wright rolled his eyes, reached across the table, and snatched the PADD out of Holtz' hand snappily.

"What it effectively means, Mister Vulcan - "

"I am only half-Vulcan," Holtz corrected."

"What it effectively means, Mister Half-Vulcan, is that the saucer section would be playing chicken with asteroids, crystalline debris, ice balls, and god knows what else is out there," Wright grumbled, waving the PADD threateningly at the android standing at the front of the room in the bright red uniform. "The last Federation starship to come through this patch was the _USS Brusilov_."

"Brusilov!" Tatiyana exclaimed excitedly, her dark mood temporarily breaking, "The famous Russian general, Aleksei Brusilov? I wrote a paper on him for - !"

Wright coughed, rudely, and Tatiyana shrunk back a bit, into her seat.

"Thank you," Wright scoffed, "The last Federation starship to come through this patch was the _USS Brusilov_. She lost her command crew, one-third of her remaining compliment, had her starboard nacelle and her torpedo struts ripped off, and Starbase repair crews were picking shards of crystal out of her for months. I don't know if she ever sailed again."

"Starship do not 'sail', Mister Wright," Data corrected, "However, if what you mean to say is that she was never spaceworthy, you are correct. This is why the saucer section will be evacuated, with only a skeleton crew manning her. I will man the ship, along with three others. I have selected an officer for flight control, an officer on tactical, and an engineer to maintain the impulse drive."

Wright scoffed, audibly, and reclined in his chair with his hands behind his head, his face in a bit of a scowl.

"An engineer?" Wright asked, curiously, "What bone-headed greenhorn went and volunteered for that job?"

Data paused, cocked his head, and then shook his head in a slightly negative gesture.

"No one has volunteered," Data explained, "But I have selected you for the task."

Wright's eyes went wide, and his heart skipped a beat. He was going to be trapped on a flying saucer, in close quarters with an android he really wasn't especially fond of, plunging at full impulse into a maelstrom of icy, crystalline death. And he was going to be fixing machines. More blasted machines. Again.

Gallant stifled a chuckle at Wright's panicked expression, at which point Data turned to him, as well.

"Ensign Gallant," Data spoke, "You are most suited to the task of navigation. I have selected you for flight control."

Tatiyana breathed a sigh of relief. She worked well with Gallant and with Wright, and even though she was currently very concerned about Data's emotional stability, she liked him. Data was a capable, competent command officer, and he hadn't steered them wrong so far. He'd kept them alive, and kept their ship in...almost one piece. She knew that she'd be chosen as tactical officer for this mission - she was, after all, the best choice for the job.

"Lieutenant Chekov," Data spoke, as Tatiyana expected he would, and turned towards her with his usual rather stoic, blank expression. "I have selected you as one of this mission's tactical officers."

_One of?_ The sound of the words made Tatiyana's blood run cold. She glanced up, nervously playing with the end of her ponytail, her face a portrait of suspicion and worry.

"Keptin," she asked, as politely as she could, "Vould you please tell me who else vill be joining us on Tactical?"

"Of course," Data responded, arching an eyebrow slightly. "A significant portion of the mission will involve using the ventral and dorsal phaser strips on the saucer section to repel oncoming asteroids. A point defense phaser system, in essence. Due to the volume of targets that we will be dispersing while en-route, I have selected a second candidate to assist you." Tatiyana watched him intently, waiting for him to divulge the officer's identity. "Lieutenant Yar has been selected as well."

When Data spoke those words, the tension in the room shot skyward, and one could have heard a pin drop at the silence that followed. Wright backed off, watching Tatiyana with worry as she clenched her fists and stood.

"Vith all due respect, keptin," she snapped, "I do not believe that 'Lieutenant Yar' should be selected for any form of duty right now. Meestur Holtz is qualified."

"Lieutenant Holtz is the officer I have designated as acting captain of the stardrive section. In the event that we do not succeed, he will be responsible for the crew's safety - "

"Then somevun else!" she spat, "Anyvun else! Vun of my security officers. Somevun trained."

"Lieutenant Yar has been trained," Data observed.

"Keptin!" Tatiyana cried, about to continue further when Wright put a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

"Tatiyana, maybe we should just wait until after the - " Wright suggested, about to finish the thought when she brushed his hand off and stood.

"I believe you are allowing your emotions to jeopardize this mission," she barked, glaring right at the android in red, "And, if you continue to allow a security threat like 'Lieutenant Yar' to run rampant on this ship, I vill have no choice but to reliewe you of duty, keptin."

Data paused, considering the thought, and turned towards the remainder of the table.

"Make the necessary preparations. Saucer separation will proceed in two hours," Data explained, "At the edge of the Crystal Gorge."

"Keptin - !" Tatiyana repeated.

"You are all dismissed," Data addressed, glancing towards each member of the assembled group in turn, "Except for you, Lieutenant Chekov."

One by one, Cohl, Karn, Holtz, and finally Gallant got up from the table and stepped out of the room. Wright placed a hand one last time on Tatiyana's shoulder.

"Give 'im hell," he mumbled, before making his way towards the door as well, trying very hard not to meet Data's golden eyes.

There was a long period of silence that followed in the dark room. Tatiyana stood at the table, near where her chair rested, with her arms cross and her face slightly redder than usual. The look on her face was stern, and was one of visible offense. Clearly, the idea that she would have to look at Armus, let alone work with Armus, wasn't one that inspired a great deal of confidence.

"Tactical?" Tatiyana scoffed, "Armus spent the better part of yesterday trying to kill us all - in the case of the _Sutherland_ crew, she almost succeeded. And of all the places in the world you could be putting her right now...you want her firing phasers? At point-blank range of the stardrive section?"

Data paused, considering the argument but also knowing the logic directly behind it.

"The angle at which the phasers are capable of firing would make the stardrive section an impossible target," Data explained, "And, even if it weren't, the stardrive section would have a tremendous advantage over the saucer in a direct contest of strength. There would be no advantage to Armus in destroying the vessel before we reach our destination."

"Armus?" Tatiyana mused, "Vhat happened to 'Lieutenant Yar'?"

"I would prefer not to use Armus' name in a context which might be uncomfortable for select - "

"You're trying not to tell Holtz," Tatiyana accused, "You don't vant him to find out."

"It would be counter-productive to this mission," Data explained. "I require his full attention on his work. Just as I require the full attention of this crew on completing the task at hand."

Tatiyana paused, approaching him slightly and confrontationally.

"You don't trust him," Tatiyana snapped.

"I do," Data explained, "However, I believe that it would introduce an unnecessary element of risk - "

"You're planning to use the saucer section as a bulldozer, and you're telling us about unnecessary risks? Flinging shuttlecraft? Slingshoting the _Soyuz _at the _Sutherland_? There's been a lot of unnecessary risks, Lieutenant Commander, and as Chief of Security it is my duty to reduce those risks." She paused, watching him with a great deal of concern on her face. "Vhy is she really coming along, Keptin?"

Data sighed, arching an eyebrow slightly and cocking his head. His expression was...sad.

"I trust you, and Mister Holtz, and each member of the senior staff. Your performance has been most impeccable - even Mister Wright. But...as far as Lieutenant Yar is concerned, I do not trust her," Data explained, "Because I cannot. To do so would be to introduce another unnecessary risk to the crew. If she remains on the stardrive section, she would be left unchecked. She would have the capacity to seize the ship in the same manner that she did when she boarded the _Sutherland_. Once we clear the Crystal Gorge, she would have a superior vessel, and access to superior firepower. We would not be in a position to oppose her. I believe that she poses less risk on the saucer section...and she does abilities that would benefit us at Tactical."

Tatiyana detected a hint of regret in Data's voice, and frowned.

"Vhat else?" she asked.

"I...I believe that it would be a good experience for her," Data admitted.

"For who?" Tatiyana asked, "Armus? The creature?"

"No," Data responded, honestly, "For Tasha."

Tatiyana paused, worried that maybe - just maybe - the previously infallible android captain had just fallen cleanly off the deep end. She shrugged, crossed her arms, and started a line of discussion that she knew that, one way or another, wouldn't be especially pleasant.

"Tasha Yar is dead," Tatiyana explained, "She's gone, Data."

"If that were true," Data remarked, frowning even deeper, "It would make this entire situation far less...complex. I believe that a part of her consciousness has survived."

Tatiyana remembered the tears that Armus had shed in the shuttlebay, and remembered everything else that had transpired. She remembered reading about the nature of Data and Tasha's relationship, though, and knew that as far as persuasion went...Data was probably at the moment the most vulnerable to Armus of anyone aboard the ship. That made them both security risks. Grave risks.

"Keptin," Tatiyana continued, "She has Tasha Yar's body...not her memories."

"Again, Lieutenant, I wish that were true," Data argued, "But I...I believe that a part of Tasha's conscious mind still exists."

"How?" Tatiyana pressed on, her eyes particularly afraid, "How do you know? What proof do you have? How can you be sure, keptin?"

"I cannot," Data admitted, "However...she made a request that was particular indicative of the old Tasha Yar. She believed that she had...complied, in the creature's attempt to destroy us, and asked that I throw her out an airlock."

"Maybe ve should," Tatiyana scoffed.

Data's eyes and face hardened, and he straightened himself up slightly.

"I will not condone that course of action at this time," Data answered, aggressively.

"The time might come when you don't have a choice, keptin," Tatiyana responded.

"And I will not allow myself to be emotionally compromised," Data snapped.

"How do you know you aren't already?" Tatiyana pushed.

"I am not," Data responded, "It is a statement of fact. I am operating within normal parameters."

"Keptin, nothing about this is normal - !"

"I believe that she will change," Data finished.

"And I believe, keptin, that's exactly what she vants you to think," Tatiyana finished, in turn, "I believe she's using you. And you're playing right into her hands."

Data paused, and glanced out the window at the starfield beyond.

"Your objection is noted," he spoke softly, "You have your orders. You will complete your duties as ordered, or you will be relieved and replaced."

Tatiyana started to voice an objection, sharply, when Data turned towards her, his face a mask of anger and frustration.

"You are dismissed!" he spat. "Get out!"

Tatiyana stepped back, a bit, frightened by his behaviour. She moved towards the door, sighing deeply.

"Keptin," she spoke, before she stepped out of the room, "I vill...I..." Disillusioned by someone she'd considered, up until this point, a good friend and something of a hero, she wandered into the corridor biting back tears. She was visibly hurt, visible upset, and in a position where there was absolutely nothing else she could do to safeguard the vessel and the crew that she very deeply cared about.

Data stood in the darkness, and the silence, watching the stars go by, one by one. He glanced down, at the ground, thinking over his emotional outburst with a great deal of...turmoil. Of all the crew of the _Rorschach_, none had been more helpful or more decent to him than Tatiyana Chekov had. The fact that he had just dealt her such a serious blow brought him a great deal of...regret.

When he had started this journey, when he had left McKinley station, he was a model officer. He was the sort of decisive, capable, impartial commander that Starfleet vessels needed. He had seen this as a chance to shine, to excel, to gain valuable experience. Was that experience shaping him into someone he didn't want to become...? Possibly.

This journey had already given him numerous stories to share with Picard. Now...he found that it had also given him a taste of what he didn't want to become. Uncontrolled emotions. Worse than they had ever been before. Armus had pit officer against officer, brother against brother, ship against ship. This voyage had taken friends, and turned them into enemies. With his emotions running rampant...he was only feeding that turmoil, that scare tactic that Armus was so fond of employing.

Data knew now that he had to restrain his emotions. He had to restrain himself. Anything else would be putting the crew at risk. Dire risk.

But first...he had to find Tatiyana. And he would apologize.


	20. XX: Lovers

**The reviews, they're just a-pouring in! ^^ In all seriousness, folks, thanks for thinking so highly of this story that you've taken the time to talk to me about it, and to tell me what you think of it. It's much appreciated, it's keeping me on track, and it's helping me address issues in the story as they arise. Your suggestions are, in all seriousness, making this a better tale, and making it better for me to tell. Thank you greatly for the effort you've put into this.**

**Clio Trismegista - Eh...um...how to put this delicately? ^^; I'm glad I got your name right...but you kinda got my gender wrong. xD Yep, scimitarblue is a dude. ^^ No worries, though. As the father of that rather androgynous young prince in Swamp Castle from Monty Python and the Holy Grail stated, "Well, that's understandable." xD I suppose I do behave in a slightly androgynous manner. Anyway...yes, Wright is my favorite character, hands-down, of my new OC's. He is also, admittedly, the only one I actually based on myself. I repair people's cable for a living, and I have the same attitude as Wright towards machines. I really and truly do believe at moments that they exist for the sole purpose of spiteing us, and I believe that they're a lot smarter than they're letting on. Chekov's a fun character to write. Yes, she borders at the moment on insubordinate...but in her position, she has to be. She considers Data to be a genuine threat, if he's been emotionally compromised by "Tasha." It makes the mission a lot more complicated. She is indeed walking a fine line. Karn, though...Karn's the nice guy. I like Karn.**

**Kaiba-Kun - I should give you a bloody medal or something for all the reviews you've written. I actually considered making Tatiyana slap him - but then, I thought...nah. I'm more pleased with the way it turned out. Besides, I couldn't have Tatiyana locked up for assaulting a senior officer, or stricken with a broken hand - I have plans for her. xD The "faceprint Ensign" is one of my favorite moments in the story so far. If this were ever, EVER made into a Star Trek episode, series, or movie...I would so ask Paramount to throw me in, as a cameo author appearance, playing the "faceprint Ensign". I would love that. I really do look forward to reading your story, once it's posted, btw - I am also contemplating writing a story after First Contact based around Data. It also involves the **_**Rorschach**_** crew, and...if everything goes the way I hope it does...it's going to be a crossover between Star Trek and the Alien movies. Why Alien? Because Tasha Yar's character was originally based off of one of the marines from **_**Aliens**_**. I thought now that I've found a way to "resurrect" the character...it was only appropriate. ^^ If I do write that story, though, it'll be a helluva lot shorter than this one is.**

**Evilplutonium - I'm glad you find the story and the characters so believable. I feel, however, that I've shortchanged you in that you've mentioned that Maddox and Picard were two of your favorites. Believe it or not, Maddox is NOT dead. I have plans for him. He will, ultimately, become the "Deus Ex Machina" character later in the story, and help save the day. As for Picard...I have planned a way for him to show off the big damned hero that he really is. ^^ Stay tuned. I do, however, wish to address as well the constructive criticisms that you provided me. **

**(A) You are certainly not the first to point this little problem out. I've tried to make the dynamic of their relationship such in later chapters that it's slightly more believable, and YES, he's compromised. VERY compromised. I hope, though, that I can make it a little bit more believable. I've had issues with the way this is all playing out, myself, so you're definitely not alone there. **

**(B) Believe it or not...very little time has passed. They left dock, they went into the Nebula, they got shot at. That's pretty much one, two, maybe a few days tops. They take the ship out of the nebula, and into the Crystal Gorge. That's another day. So...they're still taking up a comparatively small length of time. I know I haven't explained the passing of that time very well, though. I should probably make mention in a future chapter of how much time is remaining. **

**(C) He is EXTREMELY torn. And I've tried to address that in this chapter, and will hopefully continue to address it in following chapters as well. But...I hadn't thought about drawing direct comparisons between him and Picard. I guess, at moments, he imitated some of Picard's habits around the "Yellow" and "Green" chapters, but I might have missed the mark. I'll think about that, though, for a future chapter.**

**I'm going to shut up now before I end up with more review than chapter. Sorry for babbling. I hope you enjoy this chapter, and please keep the feedback coming - it is, as I mentioned before, MOST helpful.**

_Lovers_

Holtz arched an eyebrow, curiously, as he moved through the corridor alone. His orders were simple, and clear - he was to supervise the movement of personnel from the saucer section to the stardrive section before the ship separated, and before the android captain, Data, flew the ship into the proverbial jaws of crystalline death beyond. If all else failed, Holtz was to lead the remaining _Rorschach_ and _Sutherland_ crew back to the nearest starbase, for repair and recrew while Starfleet Command prepared for the inevitable assault on Earth the "Shining Ones" that he'd seen reference to in the briefing PADD that Data had given him.

The whole confrontation between Lieutenant Chekov and Lieutenant Commander Data in the lounge had been most...illogical. Of what little Holtz knew of Lieutenant Yar, the young woman he'd seen at the funeral, she was a Starfleet officer and seemed capable. A little sensitive to the tragedy that had struck, perhaps, but she was after all only human. What was it about the woman that had infuriated Data's security chief so much? Past history? A general grievance?

There were any number of free radicals to be considered, based solely on the fact that Lieutenant Yar and Lieutenant Chekov were both, after all, quite human, and quite prone to emotion. Holtz himself was prone to emotions, but not nearly to the degree that a full human might be...and for this, Holtz was most greatful. It took a great deal to upset him, and a great deal to move him to aggression.

Still...Holtz' own emotional controls were somewhat ajar. The agony that Armus had wrought on his consciousness, the same agony Armus had imparted on every member of the _Sutherland_ crew, was going to stick with him for a long time, like a bad scar. Towards anyone else, Holtz could maintain a certain sense of stoicism, even an enemy or rival. But Armus...Armus had managed to evoke emotions in Holtz that Holtz himself hadn't experienced in years. Primal, too-natural things. Fear. Anger. Hate.

Data had not yet revealed to Holtz where Armus was being contained, or how. Holtz, at the moment, was less than concerned about it. As long as Armus was contianed for the time being, they were safe. But...Holtz made a mental note to bring it up, once the _Rorschach_ cleared the Crystal Gorge. A creature like Armus could not, from what Holtz had experienced, be contained or controlled for any great length of time. It had broken their forcefields, absorbed their phaser blasts, penetrated and warped their minds in ways one couldn't comprehend who had not experienced it first-hand. A creature like that was simply too dangerous to be left alive. To have Armus destroyed would be only logical.

No...these emotions were wrong. These emotions...these feelings...they were wrong. He was a junior officer, and Data, at the moment, was his acting captain. Holtz would trust the android captain, for the time being...he would keep the emotions at bay.

On a lighter note...Holtz made a note to research Lieutenant Yar. He was intrigued by the display of aggression by Lieutenant Chekov in the lounge, and wanted to determine the exact nature of the confrontation.

The answer could mean a great deal, based on the fact that they were all together aboard this vessel, working towards a mission whose ultimate outcome would decide the fate of a densely-populated Federation world. Curiosity in this matter, thus, was only logical.

* * *

Lissa Cohl sighed as the last wave of medics poured in with supplies from the sickbay in the _USS Sutherland_'s saucer section, relieved that at long last the moving of equipment was finished. It had taken them about an hour and a half, and she'd coordinated the efforts as best she could from here, on her own. Usually, she had Karn around to help out. Good old Karn...Merrith did always seem to be around when she needed a helping hand, or a shoulder to cry on. And right now, she could use a really, really big shoulder.

When the last of the medics had stepped outside, Cohl made her way over to the lone patient taking up space in her sickbay. Everyone else had either been cleared for duty, or discharged to their quarters for the time being. There hadn't been any improvement since the day before. His vitals were all still reading normal...but he was comatose. Dormant. Whether he was ever really going to recover was anyone's guess. When the _Rorschach_ returned to a working starbase, his next of kin would have to be notified...and would have to make the decision to keep him on life support or take him off.

Lissa Cohl didn't like the idea of handing over Bruce Maddox, the jovial soul that he was, to someone else to play God with. This whole mission, this whole enterprise, was Bruce's brainchild, and his quest. He'd brought them all together...he practically built this ship and crew from the ground up. While he was a far better scientist than a soldier, and while he still had a great deal to learn about commanding an actual starship, he had done his best...his best, and more.

Cohl approached him, standing at the bedside and checking his readings one last time. The Orion had been hoping for some sign of improvement, some sign of recovery. Maybe a few extra brainwaves, or thought patterns. There was nothing. Neural patterns were as slow as they were when he'd been brought here in the first place. His chances of survival were getting slimmer and slimmer by the minute, and Cohl knew it.

She was grateful that Data had showed up, that night that she'd fallen asleep working on the funeral - the address to Maddox' family was something that she hadn't been looking forward to completing, as Chief Medical Officer. Data had taken care of that, while he and Karn had been putting together the ceremony for the crew. After all the casualties she'd dealt with the day before...it was a good thing both of them had been around when they were.

Now...now there was just the matter of riding this out. If Data's plan worked, and _if_ they survived traversing the Crystal Gorge...maybe they could find a way to bring Maddox back. To improve his condition. They owed him that much, at least. God, they owed him that much.

"When was the last time you ate something?"

The voice behind her, light but still distinctly male, caught her offguard and Cohl jumped in fright. She whirled around, and sighed deeply when she saw Merrith Karn standing behind her, in his black and blue jumpsuit, with that usual friendly, concerned look on his face.

"Oh, God," she breathed, frowning at him suddenly, "Please don't do that again." She moved to one of the tables nearby, and started to sort through medical instruments, putting them back in their place. There were boxes of the damned things everywhere, thanks to the influx of equipment from the _Sutherland_, and she had a lot of work to do to get this sickbay ready for the next time that casualties would invariably start coming in.

"You didn't answer my question," Karn called from across the room, "Have you eaten?"

"I did," Cohl lied. She had, indeed, eaten...yesterday. Before she started working on the funeral preparations. She was hungry, yes, but there were a lot of other crewmen worse off than her. Like Maddox. And if anything happened between now and the time that the _Rorschach_ caught up to the Shining Ones, whatever the hell they were, Lissa knew she was going to have to have this place ready.

"When?" Karn probed.

"Earlier," she responded vaguely.

Karn stepped over to Bruce Maddox' still body, lying on the bio-bed, and frowned.

"Still nothing?" Karn asked.

"Nothing," Lissa snapped. "Just like last time. And the time before that. And the time before that. I keep telling you, and Data, and Tatiyana, and everyone else that I'll let you know when he comes around. Until then..." She sighed, trailing off. She started chuckling lightly, and darkly.

"What?" Karn asked her, worriedly, "What's so funny?"

"We've cured cancers, tumors, even the common cold. We've prosthetic limbs for officers like Gallant, making them faster...better...stronger. We're cruising the galaxy in a starship with technology that lets us move faster than light, traverse asteroid fields, and go where no one's - "

"Not that line again," Karn mused, rolling his eyes, "I heard enough of it during Commander Rand's comms class at the Academy."

"You get the idea," Cohl finished. "We can do all of these things..." she whispered, in frustration, "But I can't wake this one man up." She crossed her arms, defeated, and went to stand near one of the counters nearby, where she'd be shelving and sorting even more instruments shortly. She heard the sound of footsteps behind her, approaching her. She then felt a warm, firm hand on her shoulder. She turned, and the bald-headed Deltan was smiling at her, from behind her.

"You're doing your best," he spoke, "Just like you'd do your best for any of us. I know Lissa Cohl. She doesn't like to give up. She doesn't like to lose, either."

"Well, I'm losing," Cohl snapped. "I'm losing fast. And you're right, I don't like it."

"Lissa," Karn spoke, "Just...keep your head in the game. Just like at the Academy. Remember that unit we did in Garrovick's class on cryogenics?"

"We failed," Cohl snapped, "Not an especially reassuring thought."

"But we repeated the course together, the year after," Karn explained, "And as I recall...a certain Orion medical officer in-training was at the top of the class."

Cohl crossed her arms, and glared at him.

"What are you trying to say?"

"I'm saying...I know you'll do your best. But even if your best isn't enough this time...there's going to be other times, and other chances. Someday, sometime, your best will be enough. You've already saved more lives in a year than I'll save by the time I'm fifty. You've made a difference, Lissa," Karn concluded, smiling back at her. "But don't give up on Bruce just yet...there's still time. And I know you'll think of something. Eat something in the meantime - you won't be any good to us if you starve."

Lissa nodded, bleakly, and turned back to her work. She wiped a couple of stray tears out of her eyes, and smiled.

"Thanks," she whispered.

"You're welcome," Karn answered. "I have to be on the Battle Bridge...I'm Holtz' Ops Officer until this mess is over. Are you going to be alright, down here?"

Lissa nodded again, still not facing him.

"Okay," Karn sighed, "I'll see you on the other side."

After a few seconds, Cohl heard the sound of footsteps moving towards the door to the corridor. The doors whooshed open, and Karn stepped outside. The doors closed, and Lissa was left alone. A short time passed, and then she turned. Her lips instantly curled up in a grateful, happy smile and she raised a hand over her mouth in surprise. It was such a small, simple thing that she saw...but it gave her a warm, relieved feeling inside.

There was something on the desk. Someone - most likely a certain Deltan - had brought her lunch.

* * *

When the door to Armus' quarters swung open, Data expected to see Tasha's form glowering at him, spitting out curses, threatening him, or threatening members of the crew at large. Probably for its own amusement. Armus, after all, was just that type of creature. What he didn't expect was a smile. As the doors slid apart, "Tasha" had a wide, eager smile on her face. Data was immediately pleased, and suspected for 0.315 seconds that, perhaps, Tasha had returned. And then he noticed that Armus' eyes were still black.

He also noticed that there was something condescending...something mocking...in that smile.

"Is something wrong?" Data asked, curiously. Right from the start, something about the way she was looking at him put him off.

"Of course not," she snickered, coming to an exaggerated position of attention and raising a mock salute, "Lieutenant Yar, reporting for duty, Captain!"

Data paused, cocking his head slightly, squinting one of his golden eyes.

"Have I missed something?" Data inquired, "A bad joke, perhaps?"

"Oh, you haven't missed a thing," Armus sneered, "And neither did I. I'm a telepath, remember? To a degree, anyway. I caught the little display that you and that little Russian firecracker put on in the lounge, Tin Man." She crossed her arms, watching him with mock interest. "I have to say, I didn't think you had it in you. That much anger...that much wanton emotional destruction...it's good for the soul, I say."

Data watched her, deadpan seriously, and continued.

"My discussion with Lieutenant Chekov was a private one," he argued, "Your listening in is a clear and intentional violation of that privacy."

"And you honestly think I care?" Armus chuckled. She motioned out towards the corridor, sneering at him. "So...are you going to take me to the bridge, or not?"

Data paused, nodded, and stepped out into the corridor. Armus followed, walking along beside him with an unusual strut to her step, and a smile on her face. Something looked like it had her genuinely thrilled right now.

"I heard something else, by the way," Armus explained, as they moved towards the junction to where the nearest turbolift was waiting to take them up to the saucer section. Data arched an eyebrow, afraid to ask, but knowing that realizing the answer was inevitable.

"I am for the moment uncertain to what you are referring," Data answered, vaguely. He had a sick feeling, though, deep in that positronic emotion chip of his, that he knew exactly what it was. If Armus had overheard the argument...she'd also heard that Data didn't trust her. She'd also heard that the crew suspected him to be...emotionally compromised...because of his attachment to Tasha. Either of the above were dangerous pieces of information for Armus to possess...especially as she was in a perfect position to act on any or all of them right now.

Moving ahead of Data, "Tasha" barrelled her way into the turbolift, past a pair of Engineering staff moving heavy equipment. One of them spat out an obscenity, to which Armus responded by waving a hand and throwing him down the hall vindictively, with an invisible wave of energy.

"Mind your manners, little man," she sneered. Her smile deepened as Data approached the turbolift. "Are you coming, or what?"

Data did not respond, but helped the fallen crewman to his feet, stepping into the turbolift with "Lieutenant Yar" as the two bewildered officers outside watched her in astonishment. The door closed, and Data and Armus were left alone with the humming of the lift in motion.

Armus approached, almost sensually, and placed her finger right on the middle of Data's chest.

"I know your secret," she grinned.

"Specify," Data gulped, swallowing slightly.

"Well, I know all of them," she mused, "You don't trust me. You don't like me. You're making me a tag-along on this mission so you can babysit me from the bridge. I know all of those, but I could have guessed any one of them left to my own devices. I know the big secret. And I have one of my own for you."

Before Data had a chance to respond or protest, Armus had pulled him in close, her arms up around his back. She leaned in closer, moving her lips just millimeters away from his ear, her breath dancing across his synthetic white-gold skin as she laughed at him softly.

"It's not going to work," she whispered.

Data paused, feeling extremely uncomfortable being in such close proximity to Armus. There was a distinct difference between the way, emotionally, that contact with Tasha made him feel, and contact with Armus. He wasn't fond of contact with Armus whatsoever. It made him feel off-guard, uncomfortable, disadvantaged, and defensive. Tasha's embraces were softer...warmer...kinder. They possessed the same physical form...but each, to Data, had become as distinct and as different as night and day.

"Specify," he repeated.

"You can't bring your lover back," Armus sneered, "Not on her own."

"We are not - "

"Stow it," Armus snapped. She pulled him in even closer, relishing the way that he was trying to back away, to escape. "She's a part of me now. I own her. I am her."

"A contradiction," Data stated.

"But it's certainly one that gets the point across," Armus chuckled, "You'll never have one without the other. Ever. You'll never be able to turn your back to her without watching it, and you'll never be able to think about kissing her again without wondering if they'd really be her lips. No matter what you feel for her...you're never going to be able to trust her. After all these years, your dear Tasha is back...but the surprise is spoiled because you're never going to know if it's really her. I can't think of any greater torture for you."

Data reached behind him, removed Armus hands from his back, and stepped away from her.

"You find the prospect amusing?" he asked.

"I find it tantalizingly amusing!" Armus laughed, out loud, as the turbolift began to slow. "It's just too bad the fun will be so short-lived. I'm in this for the Shining Ones. Once I'm done with you, and your toy boat, I have every intention of making tracks for somewhere a little more suited to my tastes."

Data frowned as the lift to the bridge opened. This was not, by any stretch of the imagination, going how he'd hoped it would.

* * *

Gallant watched the helm console steadfastly, as if trying to ignore the conversation goin on behind him. It wasn't that he disagreed with Tatiyana, but it wasn't that he distrusted Data, either. He was an ensign. He was a pilot. He was going to do what he was told, to the best of his abilities. True, the...history...between Data and Armus concerned him, but - aside from a specific episode of neck-pinching - Data had yet to do anything that made Gallant feel the least bit uncomfortable about this mission's prospects. So far...they were still alive.

The two circular ports in the console, tailored to fit his implants specifically, opened. Gallant planted his robotic hands, about three inches past the wrist, into the console. There was a brief flash of light at the point of contact, and for a moment his eyes rolled back into his head as if he were overwhelmed. He took a deep breath, refocused his eyes, and turned so that he could smile at Tatiyana. The feeling of the ship literally at his fingertips, having become a direct extension of his body, was as natural to him as old leather, and as comfortable a practice as going on a walk, or reading a good book.

"Helm's ready," he called out, interrupting Tatiyana, "Just waiting on word from the Commander now."

"Thank you, Daniel," Tatiyana responded, returning to the heated discussion that she was having with Wright.

Wright looked...confused. The concept that Data, a machine, was behaving so irratically, so out-of-place...it seemed to bother Wright. Not because he wasn't used to machines not working - God, if there was a constant on this ship it was that nothing, nowhere, ever worked just quite the way it was supposed to. Especially nothing mechanical. Data's reactions, though, from what Tatiyana had described, weren't irratic in quite the way a machine tended to be. Data was being...emotional. Moody. Angsty, perhaps, even. Wright wasn't sure what to make of it all.

"He told you to leave?" he asked.

"He did," Tatiyana nodded. She watched to make sure Gallant wasn't listening too closely, but moved close to Wright so that she could speak quietly, exposing Gallant to as little as this as she could. "I don't trust Armus. I don't like Armus. I think keeping her on this ship, let alone bringing her along as our guide to the Shining Ones, if that's even vhat they're really called, is a mistake. And I suspect that she has our acting keptin wrapped right around her finger."

Wright paused, considering the prospect. When they'd discussed the possibility in the corridor, before the funeral, he'd almost dismissed it as folly. The cold, calculating, yellow-eyed bastard couldn't possibly have feelings like that for a creature...even a creature that looked like some girl he'd known somewhere, at some point in his past. It was, honestly, pretty far-fetched.

"You said that he thinks that Tasha...who's been dead, clinically, for the last seven years...is still bouncing around the inside of that thing's head?" Wright asked, worriedly.

"He's sure of it," Tatiyana sighed. "I don't know. Maybe he's right. Maybe I owerreacted."

"No," Wright argued, prodding her in the shoulder firmly with his spengler wrench, "You weren't. Don't forget that. You're security chief. Tactical officer. The whole nine yards. It's your job to ask these questions right now. Because if you're right...and I'm starting to think you just might be...well, we're going to need somebody with a level head to vape that thing before it can do any more damage."

Tatiyana watched him almost suspiciously, as if not liking the way the words were coming out.

"Do you mean to vape Armus...or Keptin Data?"

Wright responded without even a second thought.

"Both, if it comes to it," he spoke.

Tatiyana's eyes widened, and she frowned deeply.

"You are adwocating mutiny?" she inquired, not liking even the sound of the word. "You know I could have you thrown in the brig for even suggesting - "

"I'm advocating that if it comes down to a choice between her and us...and his processor's been fried by the love bug...we might have to make the decision for him," Wright sighed, "For our own good, and maybe even his. There's too much at stake." Wright pocketed his spengler wrench, and sighed again. "God, things were so much less complicated when the machines didn't talk back."

"_Da_," Tatiyana shrugged. Before either had a chance to speak another word, the turbolift hissed open, and the two people Tatiyana wanted least to see in the universe right now stepped onto the bridge - Lieutenant Commander Data, and "Lieutenant Yar".

From the moment the lift opened, Armus made a beeline for the tactical station, a wild and mischievous grin on her face. Something sank in Tatiyana's stomach as she watched Armus approach, and Wright stepped off to the side.

"Off to work I go," he sighed, "Good luck."

Tatiyana nodded to him, as "Tasha" took her place standing at the half of the tactical console that would be hers for the rest of the journey. She leaned over, putting an arm around Tatiyana's shoulders, who looked a cross between flustered, mortified, and annoyed.

"Ah, little Sputnik," Armus smiled mockingly, "You and me, blowing up space junk, saving the day, keeping the Shining Ones from dumping all over your planet...or, hell, eating it, depending on how generous they're feeling...I think it's going to be fun. You mind if I take a picture, to remember this happy moment?"

Tatiyana reached up a hand, her eyes squinted in frustration, and removed Armus' arm without a second thought. Both were tactical officers, and both stood at about the same level. Physically, though, they were opposites. Armus' hair was blond and short, Tatiyana's was long and dark. Armus wore a black uniform with gold shoulders, Tatiyana wore a gold uniform with black shoulders. Data, who had himself just stepped out of the turbolift, found himself intrigued by the pathetic fallacy of it all - as if the distinctions in their appearances were mirrors for the way that the two women truly neither trusted each other nor liked each other. Especially as far as Tatiyana was concerned.

Tatiyana expected Data to waltz forward, say something trite to "Tasha" the way he had when she'd misbehaved on the battle bridge, and take his seat. Instead, he did something that surprised her. He stepped forward, as if ignoring Armus' little display, his eyes firmly on the _other_ tactical officer: Tatiyana herself.

"Lieutenant?" he inquired, firmly, "May I speak with you privately? In my ready room, perhaps?"

Tatiyana paused a moment, but then nodded. She circled around her half of the tactical console, taking the longer route to avoid being any nearer to Armus.

"Yes, Keptin," she responded, as she followed Data through the door at the side of the room. Armus sighed, trying not to look especially...perturbed...at having been so thoroughly ignored.

She smiled, giggled mockingly, and called out across the room.

"We're going to be such good friends!" she called out with a sneer to Chekov, a moment before the brown-haired security chief disappeared into the Ready Room with Data. The door whooshed shut, and Armus was left on the bridge with a wary-looking Wright on the far side of the room, near the Ops and Engineering consoles, and Gallant at the front of the room.

"Wonderful," she sighed, "Just me, McGyver, and the Terminator, now."

Gallant arched an eyebrow, and glanced over suspiciously to Wright.

"Terminator?" he asked, curiously.

"Late 20th century flick," Wright explained, "It's a joke. Your prosthetics kind of make you look a bit like Schwartzenegger's character."

Gallant's eyes seemed to glaze over, and the younger officer obviously had no idea what Wright was talking about.

"If you say so, sir," Gallant answered, turning back to his station and a few flashing lights on his console.

Wright just shook his head and stroked his chin, now slightly confused himself.

"...who the hell is McGyver...?" Wright pondered, completely oblivious to the joke.


	21. XXI: Family

**Those of you who hate cliffhangers are going to hate me today. xD Actually...I'm trying to finish actually writing this story within the next 24 hours, so hopefully I'll have at least part of my efforts uploaded tomorrow morning, and then another upload tomorrow evening. We're getting close to the end, now...I just hope it doesn't end up being too anticlimactic. I'm going on a massive, massive writing binge...there's a reason for that. ^^; I start a new job on Tuesday, which means that my writing time will henceforth be slightly compromised. So...here's hoping I can make the ending satisfactory.**

**And now, responses to the reviews from the masses!**

**Kaiba-Kun - I think you'll get the apology that you were hoping for. And...if you liked the way that Tatiyana and Armus interacted in the last chapter, I think you'll like this one, too. Maddox is legitimately unconscious - it's not Armus' doing. That said, though, everybody's favorite Starfleet Roboticist will be up and kicking shortly. Though...I must warn you now that in an upcoming chapter, someone IS going to die. (Though it might not be who you think it will be!) I'm glad you're enjoying this story, and I hope you end up satisfied with the ending. FYI, I checked out your story and posted a review on it. I really like the direction you're taking it in - the parallels between Troi's mother and Data's mother, the use of Maddox as a character, the poker scene...all of it is quite well done. I hope to see more!**

**Clio Trismegista - Oh, they're on their way soon, don't worry. As soon as they're out of the Gorge, it's pretty much going to be, "Hey! There they are! Them alien things trying to destroy Earth, thar she blows!" And the rest is going to be a maelstrom of phasers, photon torpedoes, and chaos. xD But we're not quite there yet. And...admittedly, even I don't know a great deal about McGyver - I'm prolly one of those kids who don't know **** about him. xD I just remember references to a character named McGyver coming up, looked up a bunch of articles and stuff on him, and thought that he was kind of a neat semi-parallel for Wright. The nickname just seemed appropriate.**

**Thank you again for all of your kind words, and all of your reviews. It is very, very much appreciated.**

_Family_

Tatiyana stood near the doorway, standing perfectly in the at-ease position as Data circled around the back of the desk, and glanced out the window. He had observed Captain Picard practicing this sort of gesture often, when he had a crewman in conference and was bothered by something. What was it that the man had seen in the stars outside, in that darkness? Perspective? Hope? A sense of exploration, or of discovery? Or was it the silence of space, and the solace therein, that had beckoned to Picard before? Data found the entire prospect to be most...intriguing.

He had other concerns at the moment, though. Greater concerns than nostalgia, or curiosities. He had been...wrong, before, to shout at Tatiyana. He had been wrong to lose his temper. It was not something he was accustomed to doing often - since having loaded his emotion chip, he had experienced approximately 2,593 different varying, distinct emotional states, but few of them had ever made him feel as guilty or as...antagonistic...as this one had.

Chekov looked concerned. She was nervous, and she was completely uncertain as to why he'd called her here. Was he upset with her, still? Was he going to argue with her further over the Armus issue? Was he going to have her relieved, and replaced with Holtz for the journey's remainder? She had a feeling that whatever she'd been called in to talk about, it wasn't going to be good.

Data motioned to the chair across the table from him, close to where the Lieutenant stood.

"Please sit down," Data requested, "I suspect that it would prove more comfortable for you."

Tatiyana was doubly worried now. Sitting down was senior-officer-speak for bad news. She nodded, took a seat, and watched Data at the viewport, nervously. After a few seconds, the android turned to face her, and took a seat in the table opposite her. He placed his hands on the table, lacing his fingers together. He had seen Picard make the gesture several times before, when consulting his senior staff...right now, it also felt very natural.

"I have called you here for a matter of...some importance," Data explained, watching her with his bright yellow eyes.

Tatiyana swallowed nervously, glancing back.

"Vhat sort of...matter, keptin?" she asked.

Data paused, wincing a little bit.

"I have reflected for the last seventeen-point-five-three minutes on the best possible way to express this particular sentiment," Data explained, "And I have reflected, as well, on my behaviour in the lounge. Thus far, I have determined and categorized approximately two-hundred seventy-four different behaviours I had the potential to exhibit, but I find that none of them make any positive difference now that the negative feelings I induced have already been triggered." He cleared his throat, smiling as best he could, in a way that looked as if it was...awkward to him. "So, after consideration, I believe the best way to explain my current emotion state is that I am...sorry."

Tatiyana paused a moment, her face a look of half-flattery and half-confusion. She'd been expecting bad news, more reprimands, maybe even another argument. She hadn't quite expected this. A smile lit up her face as well, and she leaned forward, her eyes meeting his.

"Apology accepted, keptin," she smiled.

"But...I have not sufficiently explained," Data continued, "I am sorry for the way that I lashed out, emotionally, towards you for having done your duty." He paused, standing from the chair and pacing almost uncomfortably. Not only because it was a behaviour he'd seen Picard exert, as a command officer, but because now he found that it occupied him, and helped make speaking slightly easier - the equivalent of a fidget, really. "The questions you raised regarding Armus in the Observation Lounge...and my sentiments on both the creature, its form, and its presence...are concerns that a command officer, in any capacity, should expect of his security chief."

He paused, turning to face Tatiyana once more, his face serious but slightly warm as well.

"Of any officer who I had the potential to upset," Data finished, "I am...displeased...that it was you that I did in fact upset. Throughout this crisis, while all the crew have performed well, your performance has been notably beyond expectations . Of all the crew, I find that I rely on your guidance and your assistance more than anyone else." He took one more breath, one last intake of air to cool his biochemical fluids, and then continued. "My judgement has been impaired, the last twenty-four hours. I thank you for pointing this out to me...and I will endeavor to rectify my patterns of behaviour accordingly. In the future...if you disagree with a decision I have made, or suspect that I have placed the crew in unnecessary danger...do not hesitate to confront me again."

Tatiyana smiled, a bit bashfully, shrugged, and crossed her arms as she stood to face her commanding officer.

"I vill," she answered, "And...again, keptin, apology accepted."

Data half-smiled, and motioned towards the door.

"Dismissed," he commanded, "Please return to the bridge. I will join you shortly."

He glanced out the window as Chekov stepped briskly back onto the bridge. Once the door had whooshed shut behind her, Data took a long, hard look at the crystal shards that they were closing in on, and sighed, remembering an old poem that Picard had mentioned, years and years ago.

"'Once more into the breach,'" he whispered, paying the older captain one last thought, before heading out the Ready Room doors himself, ready to get underway.

Chekov took her place at Tactical, next to Armus, and shortly after she did Data walked onto the bridge, crisply, his face the image of command-division confidence and capability. He moved towards the center seat of the room, but did not take his place at it. Instead, he stepped forward, near to the main viewscreen, watching the Crystal Gorge approach.

"Ensign Gallant," he spoke, glancing downward to his flight control officer, "What is our ETA to the edge of the Crystal Gorge?"

Gallant shrugged, checking his instruments quickly.

"I would say about six minutes," he answered, "Sir."

Data cocked his head slightly, processing the new information, and glanced towards Gallant one last time.

"Thank you, Ensign," he acknowledged, turning now towards the tactical station, "Lieutenant Chekov, initiate saucer separation. Once we have cleared the stardrive section, raise shields and arm all ventral and dorsal phaser arrays."

"Aye, keptin," Tatiyana answered quickly, her fingers flying across the console.

Last, but certainly not least, Data turned to Lieutenant Wright, who was seated at Ops with a look of dread on his face. As per usual.

"Lieutenant Wright," Data ordered, "Divert power from all non-essential weapons to structural integrity, shields, impulse engines, and phasers, in that order. Cut life support on the lower decks, if you must."

"Aye, sir," Wright nodded.

Data paused, watching the anomaly move closer, and finally took his place in the captain's seat. He tugged down at his shirt, just slightly, and as he studied the panels and the displays at the sides of his chair, he half-smirked.

"Ensign Gallant," he ordered, "Set course 020 mark 335, full impulse, and maintain that course throughout entry. Minor evasive patterns only." He glanced over towards Tatiyana and Armus, his gaze alternating between both of them. "Lieutenant Chekov, Armus," he addressed, "You will be responsible for destroying the larger pieces of debris with phaser arrays. We will absorb the impact of the remaining debris with our shields and hull, to clear a path for the stardrive section."

"Aye, keptin," Tatiyana responded immediately.

Armus rolled her eyes, crossed her arms, and spoke in a mock Russian accent obviously meant to mimic Tatiyana.

"Aye, keptin," she sneered.

Data simply ignored Armus' antics, and began to review the mission profile. What they knew of the Crystal Gorge was reasonably sparse - the field of debris had been created when a massive nearby planetoid was struck by a large asteroid or comet. It was knocked from its orbit, splintered into thousands of tiny shards, and those shards, over time, damaged other small planetoids, comets, and asteroids and added their debris to its own. The field had existed for hundreds of thousands of years, and it was massive. Impossibly massive. It was, fortunately, a great deal thinner for them to pass through here than it would be to go any other route.

They would make it through the field, follow the neutrino emissions, and they would locate the Shining Ones. It would be a simple task. Once they found the Shining Ones, of course...then the task would fall to them of averting the creatures' course from Earth. If that was possible. If that was an option. And if they could prevent Armus, their "guide", from killing them all first.

The ship shuddered as the magnetic interlocks between the saucer section and the stardrive section disconnected, and the front half of the ship, the saucer section of the _USS Sutherland_, started to drift forward. Once they were a few dozen meters ahead, Gallant punched the maneuvering thrusters and impulse engines, and the saucer veered to port, just slightly, with the stardrive falling into line behind it. The bridge crew of the saucer section steadied themselves after the jolt of the interlocks separating, and watched the main viewscreen with anticipation as the Crystal Gorge came closer, and closer, and closer.

"Phasers armed," Chekov reported, glancing across the bridge to Data. She tapped her console, switching the target lock to manual, and motioned to Armus' half the console. "You're on wentral phasers," she explained, "Try to knock the debris as clear out of way as you can. Or just waporize it, or something."

"Or something," Armus mused, "Alright." Her fingers hovered over her half of the console for a moment, as Armus strained to recall, from Tasha's memories, how a console like this functioned. It took a moment, but once Armus had her bearings, she smiled and watched as the debris moved closer and closer. "Bring it on."

"Entering Crystal Gorge in twenty seconds," Gallant reported from the front of the room.

Data stood, watching the first wave of crystals move in closer, and closer, and closer, their deathly blue-green silhouettes coming dangerously near to the ship.

"Lieutenant Chekov, Armus," he ordered, "Fire at will."

The first few seconds of the journey were jarring, and were a bad omen of the remainder of the journey. The first salvo of white-orange phaser fire that Chekov and Armus let loose burst several pieces of the crystalline debris into fragments, fragments which pounded into the deflector shield, jolting the ship sharply. As they entered the Gorge, tiny crystal fragments everywhere grated along the deflector shield, and the ship started to shake violently at all of the tiny impacts as the shields tried to compensate. Data had expected this - and knew that once the shields were down, the fragments would just scrape against the hull instead.

"Shields down to ninety-sewen percent," Tatiyana called out. After a few seconds, and after having blasted several more of the giant crystal shards in their path apart, Tatiyana scanned her console again. "Ninety-vun percent."

The journey went on in this fashion for about an hour. There was no major damage to any ship systems of importance, and shields steadily began to deplete their power reserves as they struggled to stay active against the onslaught of tiny green-blue crystal fragments. Chekov and Armus continued to clear asteroids and crystal shards out from the front of the ship - and, after a time, the question of who had blasted away the greater number turned into something of a contest between the two of them, with each of them overtaking the other at various points. Wright, looking incredibly apprehensive, sat at his station, watching the ship's systems intently, and Gallant kept his hands on the controls, keeping the movement of the saucer as smooth as he could so that the stardrive section could follow in their wake. The ship continued to buckle under the impact of the little fragments on the shields, and Wright's face began to take on a remarkably green tone.

"Sixty-two," Armus sneered, glancing over to Tatiyana victoriously after having furiously blown a trio of asteroids out of the sky.

Tatiyana casually tapped a button, causing another crystal shard to explode, and smirked right back.

"Sewenty-four," she grinned confidently, "Vhich, according to our agreement, means that's about a good dozen shots of wodka you'll be buying vhen we reintegrate with the stardrive section."

"Seventy-four?" Armus cried, sounding like she was about to choke, "Impossible! I was in the lead, not even five minutes ago. There's no way - !"

Tatiyana casually tapped another pair of buttons, smirking mischievously.

"Sewenty-six," she mused, "But it you'd like to call it ewen at tvelve, I'd be glad to - "

"Sixty-seven," Armus snapped, her hands flying across the console, her face bent in a wild grin. "And you're good, Sputnik...but you're not that good."

All of a sudden, the shuddering against the shields stopped. A moment later, a sound, like a high-pitched whine, started to ring through the bridge. Wright raised his hands to his ears, cursing.

"What the hell was that?" he spat, as the sound grew louder and louder around them.

"That," explained Data matter-of-factly, "Is the distinct auditory tone of frozen water and stone scraping across the hull plating of the saucer section, indicating that our shields are no longer functioning."

"Great," Wright groaned, "How long is it going to go on?"

"Approximately the next four hours," Data concluded.

Wright simply buried his head in his hands, hiding himself away effectively from the whole ordeal.

Gallant, however, didn't take part in the rest of the discussions that had broken out on the bridge. The noise in the background, the whining of the hull plating, none of it particularly bothered him. The fact that he was navigating a flying saucer playing chicken with asteroids didn't bother him, either. But...he had an odd feeling, like a prickling at the back of his neck, as he watched the sensor display in front of him. Among the asteroids surrounding them seemed to be something else...something that kept showing up on sensors, like a wave, and then disappearing. Something moving irratically...and yet, seeming almost to circle the saucer section of the _Sutherland_ as it moved along. He frowned, and glanced behind him at Lieutenant Commander Data.

"Captain," he called, "I think you might want to take a look at this."

Data cocked his head slightly and raised an eyebrow, but stood and moved across the room to study the sensor readout in front of Gallant.

"Is there a problem, Ensign?" Data inquired.

"I've kept a steady eye on sensors, to keep us out of the path of the largest asteroids," Gallant explained, "But there's something else out here. Something irratic. It's giving off a small subspace wake."

From across the room, Armus scoffed.

"They're vermin," she mused, "This corridor is travelled occasionally by the Shining Ones. When I was among them...these corridors used to be littered with the things. Eels, or something like them. Insignificant. They don't pose us a threat."

"I'm sure I saw something," Gallant insisted.

"Alert me if you detect anything further," Data ordered, "Mister Wright, prepare to divert emergency power to phasers."

"I'm telling you," Armus insisted, "These things are pathetic. Inconsequential. We're best off keeping our eyes on the asteroids."

For a few seconds, Tatiyana and Armus continued to fire away at debris, and Data watched the viewscreen ahead, as Gallant navigated them through the shards. Suddenly, the young officer jolted, sitting upright, yanking one of his robotic arms out of the console, and pointing wildly to the sensor display in front of him.

"There!" he called, "Commander, there! I saw it again!"

Data approached a second time, and observed the pattern of the wake. It was possible that the wake could have been caused by any number of things - there was no shortage of debris in the Crystal Gorge, after all. The pattern of motion was irratic, but the object could have bounced or reflected off of another piece of debris in its path. All the same...Data, too, now found himself feeling slightly disconcerted.

"Continue scanning," Data ordered.

Armus growned audibly from the rear of the room, blasting one last ice shard out from in front of them when she turned to face Data and Gallant with her face turned in a scowl.

"There's nothing out there," she insisted, "You're wasting your time."

Gallant watched his console intently as the wake in the field around them seemed to dissipate once again. Tatiyana also seemed distracted by it, and was watching the front of the room as well. Armus simply rolled her eyes, crossed her arms, and shrugged confidently.

"Well, you can all just keep chasing sensor gremlins," she chuckled, "I'm up to seventy-two, Sputnik."

Data watched the sensors, expecting the wake to appear again. Based on the data provided by Gallant, and based on the pattern of movement in the wake, he predicted that whatever had caused it would either come into visual range, ahead, within the next twenty seconds, or it would prove to be nothing but the chaos of the crystal shards at work again. The patterns of movement were uncanny, but could still realistically have been caused by the movement of debris.

Five seconds passed. Then ten seconds. Then twenty seconds. Nothing happened, which indicated to Data that they were in no direct danger. The hull continued to whine as ice and crystal scraped against it, gouging holes and flinging hull plating off, into space. Wright's console began to flash, and the engineer grumbled to himself, slapped the console, and then turned towards Data with a look of exasperation on his face.

"We've got a problem with the power supply to environmental controls. It's minor, but I'd better check it out," he sighed, "The bloody thing."

Data nodded, motioning to the turbolift.

"Proceed," he remarked, "But maintain an open channel with the bridge, in the event that you are required to repair the engines or phaser arrays."

Wright swallowed nervously, produced his spengler wrench from his pocket, and moved towards the lift as if he were heading towards gallows.

"Just keep her in one piece," he called, stepping into the lift, watching Data with apprehension, "Don't you give this old bird any reason to make my job more difficult."

The lift doors whooshed shut, and Wright vanished from the bridge. Data checked the readouts on the small screens on Gallant's console. The damage to the hull was cosmetic and minimal, for now, and based on the readings from Ops the _Sutherland'_s saucer section would survive long enough for them to clear a debris field twice this size. Chekov and Armus continued to fire the vessel's phaser arrays, each chalking up several more large pieces of debris.

Data watched the sensors for a moment longer, but then returned to the command chair. As for Gallant...Gallant couldn't take his eyes off the sensors. He couldn't help it. There was a sick, daunting feeling in the pit of his stomach...like there was someone or something watching him.

"Maintain current heading," Data commanded, neutrally.

"Sir - !" Gallant protested, warranting a slight snarl from Armus on the other side of the room.

"For the last time!" Armus snapped, "There is absolutely nothing out here to be worried about - !"

Her last statement was interrupted as the ship violently shuddered, throwing both Armus and Chekov back from their stations onto the wall. Data braced himself against his seat, and Gallant only managed to stay in place because his prosthetic limbs were locked into the console itself. The lights on the bridge flickered, and sparks erupted from the unmanned Ops console, as it flickered out and died. The main viewscreen became a patchwork of static, and the lights shifted to a deep, emergency red.

"Report!" Data called out.

Armus and Tatiyana struggled to regain their footing, and immediately started checking through the sensor readings.

"Too much interference," Armus snapped, "I've got nothing!"

"_Da_," Tatiyana responded.

"Switch to visual scanning," Data responded. "Display on main viewscreen."

Tatiyana nodded, swallowing nervously. Gallant was tense at his station, and Armus appeared to be caught slightly off-guard.

"What was that?" Gallant marveled.

"Uncertain," Data responded, glancing over at Armus and Tatiyana. "Is it possible that we were struck by one of the larger shards?"

"Impossible," Tatiyana barked, shaking her head violently, "Ve did not let anything get through. Not vun of the larger crystals, at all."

Data paused, arched an eyebrow, and watched as the main viewer changed to a view that was switching between several different positions on the _Sutherland_'s hull. Each displayed images of small crystal shards scraping against the hull, floating out into space. The images alternated every few seconds, displaying several different angles of -

"Hold," Data commanded, glancing over to Tatiyana, "Switch to previous display."

Tatiyana nodded, and the view of the starboard aft quarter on the viewscreen was replaced by one of the ventral recorders. It was a view of the space and of the shards below the ship. Slightly to the right of the center of the screen, there was what appeared to be a shadow in the crystals, hidden behind the multitude of shards and ice chunks. Data's mouth opened slightly in confusion, and he pointed forward.

"Maintain this display," he ordered.

The shadow seemed to grow larger, and larger, moving closer and closer. All eyes on the bridge were on it, even Tatiyana and Chekov, who were alternating between blasting away crystal chunks and marveling on the shadow that approached them.

"_Wright to bridge!"_ the chief engineer hollered, from down below in environmental controls, "_What the hell's going on up there?"_

"Standby," Data responded, uncertainly.

As it came closer and closer, the object on the main viewscreen almost seemed to take shape...it seemed to take form. It was long and slender, moving gracefully like a serpent through the debris, propelled through space by what looked like five large tendrils on its front. Data watched it curiously, with the caution of a starship captain but with the eyes of an explorer.

"Fascinating," he mused, "Its pattern of movement suggests a spaceborne life form."

"It can't be any bigger than a few feet," Armus blurted, "As I said, I've encountered these before. They're vermin. It couldn't possibly have - "

Her thought was cut short by panic on the bridge as the creature moved out from behind the cover of the crystal shards. It was now in plain sight, and it was both massive and frightful to behold. It was covered in what appeared to be a thick, dry hide, almost like old scales, and each of the five tendrils that propelled it were adorned on the inside by what looked like vicious, almost metallic spikes. In the center of the five tendrils was a great maw, and the bridge crew unanimously identified it, with little effort, as the creature's mouth.

Armus, though, didn't have a chance to watch the creature any further. She dropped to the ground, clutching at her head and crying out.

"Get out!" she wailed, writhing on the bridge floor. "Get...out!"

"Armus!" Data called out, "What is happening?"

Data stood and moved over to her side. She was crying out gibberish, and seemed to be in a great deal of pain. He didn't understand why, as nothing on the bridge could have possibly -

"Captain!" Gallant snapped, "Look!"

The creature was approaching, its fangs bared, but...on its surface, its hide, there was something else. Patches of what looked like black ooze, slippery and slick in blotches all along the body of the creature that was now approaching the saucer section of the _Sutherland_ at a dangerously quick pace. Data glanced up, noticed the blotches, and realized now why Armus was in such suffering. They were not alone, here. Someone else, from the look of it, had also come for the Shining Ones.

And whoever they were, they didn't seem particularly happy to have company.

The leviathan swooped in and rammed the ventral starboard quarter of the ship, knocking the bridge crew off balance a second time. Tatiyana scurried to her feet, and immediately drew a phaser lock on the attacking creature. She noticed, however, that there was a flashing red light near her console, and she glanced down in slight panic at the sight of it.

"Keptin!" she called out, "Ve have sustained heawy damage to wentral phasers, and structural integrity!"

Data immediately tapped his communicator, his face stern.

"Mister Wright," he barked, "This is the bridge!"

* * *

The innards of the Jefferies Tube on Deck 4 weren't especially happy to see Wright leave. Just as he'd turned away from environmental controls to answer the android, there was a new shower of sparks and the console he'd just repaired blew out, spitting pieces across the deck. The remnants of the console sparked and fizzed, making a sound almost like buzzing laughter.

"You think this is funny?" Wright snapped, "You bloody well think this is funny, you demented little trollop? When we get back to McKinley, I swear to Christ I'll feed your matter into a replicator, and turn you into a - "

_"Mister Wright!" _Data snapped, once more, "_Please respond!"_

Wright kicked the sparking console, which resulted in an uproar of little white sparks, which then dissolved into an all-out fire as the console started to smolder and burn.

"Damn, damn, damn machines!" he growled.

"_Mister Wright!"_ Data repeated.

"WHAT IS IT?!?" Wright exclaimed, ripping the communicator off his chest and screaming into it.

"_We have sustained damage to phasers and structural integrity. Please make these your repair priorities until further notice."_

Wright pocketed his spengler wrench, and crossed his arms. He didn't like the idea of leaving any job unfinished - it made him feel like he'd just let one of the infernal, blasted machines win out over him. Structural integrity, though, was definitely a higher priority. The chief engineer rolled his eyes, having absolutely no idea what the android had gone and done this time, that the ship was - once again - being torn apart from all angles.

"Oh, I will," Wright growled, "But you better keep this bucket in one piece, or I'm going to come up there and put my foot up your Soong-type ass!"

"_I fail to understand the actual purpose of such a gesture,_" the android inquired, _"Vindication? Restitution? Or, perhaps, you are employing this as the expression it was throughout the twenty-first to twenty-second century, implying that a severe amount of discomfort would be done to an individual via the anal cavity for having done you great offense by - "_

Wright buried his head in his hands, stood, and barrelled his way down the corridor.

"Just keep her in one piece!" he interrupted, storming furiously towards the power feeds for the structural integrity field.

* * *

Data glanced up from where he was crouched, near Armus, to Tatiyana, his face stern and commanding.

"Signal the _USS Rorschach_," he ordered, "And order the stardrive section to hold position. We cannot risk damage to her warp drive or containment field from the crystal shards."

The ship shook once more under the impact of ramming from the creature. The vessel shuddered and the hull shrieked, as they were knocked into several large meteors in their path, putting small dents all along the outside of the hull.

"Evasive maneuvers!" Data ordered Gallant. He glanced up towards Tatiyana once more, his face still very much his "captain" face. It was composed mostly of determined, focused expressions that he'd observed from Picard over the course of the last seven years, but...in a great many ways...the expression had become his own, and it had become unique. "Lieutenant Chekov," he ordered, "Use a low-power phaser beam. Attempt to drive the creature away."

Armus glanced up at him, her black eyes wild, a hand still clutching on to her forehead as she started to struggle to her feet. She made it to about a crutch before she buckled, under the impact of another mental assault, and ended up on her knees.

"Not...going to work..." she rasped, darkly.

Tatiyana followed Data's orders, and fired a pair of phaser beams from the arrays directly into the oncoming creature. A wave of white energy burst out from the creature, dispersing the beam just before it would have come into contact with the beast itself. The leviathan swooped in, and smashed against the hull once more, harder than before.

"Hull breaches on decks five and six!" Tatiyana cried out.

Gallant growled, as the _Sutherland_ swerved, sharply missing an impact with the creature. The creature swooped down on them again, ramming the vessel once more.

"Cripes!" Gallant snapped, "I can't shake it! It's too maneuverable!"

"Phasers landed a direct hit," Tatiyana whispered, stunned, "No damage to creature, or to the energy field surrounding it."

"Of course not," Armus snapped, her breaths heavy and sweat running down her brow, "We're dealing with a remnant of the Shining Ones...like me. But it's a lot bigger, a lot meaner, and it's...it's powers are beyond anything I possess."

Data paused, glancing at her with curiosity.

"Can we communicate with it?" he asked.

Armus glanced up at him like she wasn't sure whether to slap him, strangle him, or just laugh in his face.

"What do you think I'm...trying to do, Tin Man?" she rasped, heavily.

Tatiyana fired another spread of the phaser beams, which would have connected solidly with the creature if not for the white energy field that rose up, at the last second, protecting the creature from harm. The phaser beam dispersed, and this time a pulse of white energy shot out from the creature, colliding solidly with the ship. The _Sutherland _rocked, and Tatiyana was knocked back from her station. Data and Armus were knocked to the ground.

"Those beams vere at full power!" Tatiyana cried out, "How are ve supposed to stop this thing?"

"What does it want, of us?" Data inquired, watching Armus continue to buckle under the creature's mental assault.

"Nothing..." she rasped, chuckling darkly, "Death...destruction...panic, chaos, mayhem...all the good things in life..."

The ship rocked once more, under a second pulse of white energy. Gallant turned, his eyes in a panic.

"We can't take too many more hits like that!" he called.

"Revenge..." Armus whispered, "Wants...revenge...so, so badly..."

Data paused, arching an eyebrow and cocking his head.

"Can you not convince it that your intentions are...similar?" he asked.

"It's not listening to me!" she cried out, slamming her fist against the side of the tactical console. She took a deep breath, and glanced up at Data once more. "Phasers won't do us any good...but a few well-placed torpedoes should drive it off, if they don't destroy it outright."

"The stardrive section is out of range," Data noted, matter-of-factly, "And by the time they enter range, we will be destroyed."

"Then we need to throw something else at it!" Armus snapped, "Something with a lot of antimatter!"

Data paused, and glanced over at Tatiyana. Tatiyana paused, and glanced over at Armus. Armus paused, and glanced back over at Data. Immediately, all of them seemed to be recalling the events of the day before, remembering how the _Rorschach_ had turned the tide against the _Sutherland_'s attack in the first place. A smile came to Tatiyana, an arched eyebrow came to Data, and a face-palm came to Armus as they all simultaneously spoke the same word.

"Shuttlecraft."

After a moment, though, Armus growled, crossing her arms in frustration as she stood, shakily, from the ground.

"It's not going to work," she hissed.

"Why not?" Tatiyana asked.

"Not enough antimatter," Armus sighed, "If only we had something just a little bit bigger..."

"There is approximately 43% more antimatter available on the Captain's Yacht," Data noted, "All that would be required is to reprogram the guidance sensors, chart a flight path, and set a warp core breach within the yacht to occur shortly before collision."

"Vhich is all basic flight school and tactical training," Tatiyana noted. She didn't like the idea of having to go all the way to the bottom of the saucer section, on her own, with the creature out there, but she was a Starfleet officer and do her duty. Just like great-grandfather Pavel would have, in her place. "I vill go."

"No," Data noted, "You are required at tactical. You must continue to distract the creature while the work is completed. Ensign Gallant, Lieutenant Chekov, you will distract the creature and draw it into a vulnerable position. I shall complete the work on the yacht."

"Oh, no, you don't," Armus snapped, "You're the captain. They need you up here, if something else goes wrong. You've already got a tactical officer. That means, logically, I should do it."

"Are you capable of reprogramming the guidance systems?" Data asked, worriedly.

"No," Armus admitted, "But Tasha is. She has memories involving carrying out similar procedures. We'll...tag-team this one."

Data paused, not liking the idea, but recognizing that at the moment it was the most logical decision. His emotion chip was screaming at him not to let Tasha go, but his logic circuits indicated, quite clearly, that this was the wisest course of action.

"Do it," Data ordered, "Alert the bridge when the yacht is armed."

Armus nodded, her eyes fluttering slightly, now, between black and blue, fading to a deep, dark blue color at long last - a merging between two separate, distinct consciousnesses.

"We'll be back," she smiled, moving towards the turbolift. She spared Data one last glance before the doors closed, and the three remaining members of the bridge crew turned their attention back to the slime-covered leviathan attacking the ship.

* * *

The corridors were spewing fire and smoke, as the fire suppression systems by and large had been knocked out during the leviathan's assault. It set Armus and Tasha alike slightly on edge, but there was little that could be done about it at this point. They had do finish this. They had to reprogram the guidance system, and they had to do it fast. Based on the number of times that the ship had shaken already, the structural integrity fields were due to fail, and soon. Even the illustrious Lieutenant Wright probably wouldn't be able to hold the saucer section together much longer.

They reached the airlock that led into the yacht. Armus passed control off to Tasha, who would have to complete the bulk of the work on the craft itself. Tasha took a deep breath, hit the controls at the side of the airlock, and watched as the door opened, revealing the interior of the craft inside. It was a luxurious, quaint little pleasure craft, but she didn't particularly care for it. She hopped inside, and made a beeline for the rear of the craft, where the warp drive was housed. She tore away a few pieces of hull plating, revealing a glowing blue warp core within. She swallowed, nervously, and went to work setting a detonator.

_Don't mess this up_, Armus warned.

"Be quiet and let me work," Tasha responded. After a few seconds, she had converted a tricorder into a helter-skelter remote detonator. They'd be able to set it off from the bridge, when the yacht was deployed. Until then, though, it just flashed over, and over again, waiting for the sign to go active, and release the antimatter.

"There," she sighed, "Done."

_Not until you finish the guidance systems,_ Armus snapped.

"I knew that," Tasha argued, moving back towards the front of the craft, to helm control. She brought up the guidance systems, and started to program a flight path that would use the creature as its destination, avoiding asteroids, crystals, and other debris. They were only apt to get one shot, and if it missed...it was game over for everybody.

_You realize this is probably a futile gesture,_ Armus mused, _This probably isn't going to work, and we're probably all going to die._

"Been there, done that, bought the T-shirt," Tasha quipped, "And I'm not planning on going back anytime soon."

She entered the last set of co-ordinates, and locked the flight path with an encryption. There was no way now that the yacht was apt to go off-course.

"I mean, it was a nice enough place to visit," she continued, "I just wouldn't want to live there." She made her way towards the airlock, and started to climb the ladder upwards, towards the lower decks of the saucer section. Tasha reached up and tapped her communicator badge as she went. "Yar to bridge!" she called out, "Guidance systems are ready! I'm just sealing off the yacht now!"

When she climbed out of the yacht, fire was everywhere. There was a solid wall of it blocking off the route that she'd come in, and there was fire behind her as well. She had to seal off the yacht, though...otherwise, both the yacht and the lower decks would decompress, and in the ship's current state, the violence of the decompression would probably kill everyone and everything aboard, destroying the saucer section. That wasn't an option at this point.

Tasha coughed as thick, black smoke made its way into her lungs, and her vision started to haze.

_Idiot!_ Armus called out, _You're going to get us both killed!_

Armus raised a forcefield around them, a wave of white energy that kept the fire and the smoke back as the two of them continued to work, in tandem, to seal off the yacht before it was launched. Tasha forced the hatch in, twisted the magnetic locks on the right, and then the lock on the left. Once the manual lock had been initiated, she sighed, wiped sweat from her brow, and tapped her commbadge, which, thanks to the heat, was quite hot to the touch.

"Bridge, this is Lieutenant Yar!" she called out, hoarsely, "I've got it sealed off! Launch the yacht!"

* * *

Data watched the creature come around for one more pass. Structural integrity fields, now, were barely holding. There were dents galore in the ship's hull. The emergency lights hardly had the power to stay aglow. This was their last chance, and their only chance. This voyage, Bruce Maddox's voyage, the ship and crew of the _USS Rorschach_, all of it came down to this one moment and this one maneuver. All they needed now was for Armus and Tasha to finish the guidance system, and -

"_Bridge, this...Lieutenant Yar!"_ the comm system spat, between bursts of static, _"I've...sealed off! Launch...yacht!"_

Data immediately motioned towards the viewscreen, and turned to Tatiyana.

"Launch the yacht," he ordered, "Now!"

Tatiyana nodded, her hands flying over what was left of the tactical console, and released the yacht from its docking clamps. Armus, Tasha, or whatever the hell had rigged the yacht, had sent her the frequency of the tricorder that was set to act as the detonator for an antimatter implosion. Everything else, now, was just a matter of timing. It was all just a matter of waiting for the right moment...waiting until the creature was vulnerable. If it was timed wrong, this would all be for nothing...and they were all very, very dead.

The bridge crew watched with anticipation as the yacht grew farther and farther away, approaching the creature on a direct collision course. Tatiyana watched, her finger on the proverbial trigger, waiting. The creature was almost in range...almost there...almost close enough...

Now.

She hit the detonator, and waited for the shuttle to erupt.

And waited.

And waited.

Nothing happened.

Tatiyana hit the detonator a second time, and a third time, but there was no response, no reaction. The yacht was drifting hopelessly, harmlessly, into space. She slammed her fists down on the console in frustration, as if willing the damned thing to work, but to absolutely no avail. Tatiyana glanced up at Data, her expression grim.

"Keptin," she stammered, "The...the yacht..."

Data's expression was stoic, but with a hint of...disappointment. He knew that now, there were no other options. No other alternatives. They were all going to die.

"Set a collision course," he ordered Gallant, "We must attempt to remove this creature so that the stardrive section can escape in safety."

Gallant was about to respond when something...intriguing...happened. And it was, as Data noted, most intriguing. The creature moved towards the yacht, its five tendrils extended, and devoured the yacht, absorbing it deeply and fully into its maw-like mouth. There were a few seconds of calm. Then, in the center of the creature, there was a bulge like a rapid expansion of gas or energy. The creature's tendrils flailed, in panic.

And then, a great white explosion ripped through the innards of the creature, spewing black ooze, slime, bits of the creature's hide, and all sorts of nasty bits that Data admitted might have proven, to some Federation scientist somewhere, tremendously fascinating exploded into, quite literally, a million pieces or more. The debris was flung far, much of the sickly green liquid debris splatting along the outside of the hull, almost like bugs on a windshield as the saucer moved along.

There was silence on the bridge for a moment, and then Gallant's face broke out into a smile.

"Oh, yeah!" he hollered, turning around. He considered throwing Tatiyana a high-five, but realized that with his prosthetic limbs, the movement would probably break her arm, so he thought better of it. Data half-smiled, and arched an eyebrow.

"Fascinating," he mused.

There was a trilling at Data's commbadge, and he answered it quickly with a tap.

"_Wright to bridge!"_ the engineer called, "_You've got structural integrity back! Now, would someone please tell me what the hell is going on up there?_"

"It is a most long and aesthetically displeasing story," Data explained, "I will debrief you when we have cleared the Crystal Gorge."

"_Fine. Wright out,"_ the Engineer spat. Before the comm channel went out, Data could almost swear he heard a grunt of "that bloody android" coming through, as well.

Tatiyana's face was relieved, almost to the point of giddiness, and she turned to Data as if she were about to laugh, cry, sing, and perhaps break into song.

"Ve did it!" she laughed, "Ve did it!" She took a deep breath, crossed her arms, and smiled at Data. "Actually...I guess _she_ did it. Armus...Tasha...whoever. I think ve owe them a great deal right now." She glanced down, at the 'scores' on her tactical console, a readout of how many of the crystal shards each officer had blown apart over the course of the journey. "And...I guess I owe Lieutenant Yar four shots of Russian wodka."

"Synthehol-based, I assume," Data remarked, arching an eyebrow.

Tatiyana just smiled, crossing her arms at the android First Officer.

"Vas that a joke, Meestur Data?" she smiled.

"Simply an inquiry," Data countered, dropping the matter vaguely.

There was a sort of camaraderie growing, now...between the group of them. Between himself, Tatiyana, Wright, Gallant...the crew of the _Rorschach_. Despite the fact that this was a temporary assignment, Data couldn't help noticing the same sense of familiarity...of family...that he had come to observe and enjoy on the _Enterprise_ alongside Picard. He felt...proud...of his crew, and of what they had done as a unit. Data felt...very, very pleased.

He also hadn't expected that bringing Armus along to babysit her would have ended up saving his life, and everyone else's. This also, however, caused him to feel...regret. He knew that he didn't trust Armus, and that he couldn't, just based on what he knew of the creature, and based on what the creature had done to them in the past. Now, though...now, they did indeed owe Armus a great debt of gratitude. Armus...Tasha...both of them.

"Bridge to Lieutenant Yar," Data called out, "The creature has been neutralized. Please report to the bridge."

The only response he got was static, and a faint beep as the comm channel was cut. He glanced over to Tatiyana, a look of concern on his face, and he glanced over to Gallant as well. All of them seemed to be thinking, and dreading, the same thing.

"Bridge to Armus, please respond," Data spoke. "Bridge to Lieutenant Yar, please respond."

Silence, and white noise, were the only responses that the android received.

He moved swiftly towards the turbolift, taking one last swift glance at his bridge crew.

"Ensign Gallant," Data ordered, "Move us closer to the stardrive section, and signal them to receive casualties. Lieutenant Chekov, prepare for an emergency site-to-site transport to Sickbay. Alert repair teams to come aboard and proceed with damage control." Before the turbolift doors whooshed shut, he tapped his commbadge, speaking one last phrase before disappearing deep into the ship. "Lieutenant Wright, he called out, "Proceed to main turbolift junction on lower decks, at entry point to the Captain's Yacht."

The doors closed, and Gallant and Tatiyana were left alone to their thoughts, and to their dread of what might have befallen the creature that had just saved all their lives.

* * *

Wright grumbled his way down the corridor. What was so important, that the blasted android thought that he could take the ship's Chief Engineer away from repairing damage to the ship, right now? There were no crucial systems on the deck that the android had specified, no systems of importance. There was absolutely nothing of any value or any consequence here. Where was the logic in his urgency, and his request?

Then he reached a point where the corridor was blocked. One of the ceilings seemed to have collapsed, and bits and piece of the bulkhead were strewn all over the ground, blocking their way any further. Wright crossed his arms, and sighed. This was going to make for a long repair job, but it still didn't explain why this deck was of such importance.

Data stepped out of the turbolift beside Wright, and the Engineer jumped in surprise.

"Don't do that!" Wright grumbled, "You could have been a coolant breach, or an exploding console, or a plasma manifold with a - "

"The way is blocked," Data observed, pointing out the obvious. Wright rolled his eyes, and placed his hands on his hips.

"You think?" Wright snapped, "You and whatever the hell we were banging into back there did an awfully good job of demolishing my ship. Do you have idea how long this is going to take to - "

"I am detecting high levels of sulphur, methane, and other combustion by-products," Data noted, his eyes growing wide, "Lieutenant, obtain two fire extinguishers." Data, while Wright stood, turned to the wreckage of the bulkhead, and started throwing massive pieces of debris out of the way, one at a time, slowly making his way through the rubble.

Wright moved down the corridor, snatched up a couple of extinguishers from a nearby storage locker, and returned in time to see that Data had cleared an opening in the rubble large enough for them to move through. Data took one of the extinguishers, and moved swiftly through, blasting concentrated carbon dioxide onto the blaze, forcing the flames back, and down.

"Follow me!" Data snapped, and Wright made his way through the opening, also blasting away at the flames. They moved about thirty meters into the corridor, when they spotted the place where the flames had died down - just short of the airlock to the Captain's Yacht. There, lying on the ground, her face marred with ash, soot, and other products of the smoke in the area, was the body of Tasha Yar. Wright stopped dead in his tracks for a moment, glancing up at Data worriedly.

"No way," he mumbled, "Armus had incredible powers...impossible powers. There's no way that it could have been stopped by...by this."

"Armus is a powerful being," Data replied, "But not immortal." He knelt by Tasha's side, checking for a pulse. There was none. Suddenly, flashes of a time seven years gone-by flashed through the android's positronic brain, to the surface of Vagra II when Doctor Crusher had done a similar check, with assistance from a tricorder.

Tasha was dead.

_Tasha..._

Data tapped his communicator, reached down, scooped her up in his arms, and stood upright.

"Data to bridge!" he barked, "Is the _Rorschach _within transporter range?"

"_Aye, keptin!_" Tatiyana replied hurriedly, "_But - !"_

"Prepare Sickbay to receive a casualty and initiate emergency transport!" Data snapped, "Now!"

As Wright watched, Data and Armus were engulfed in the blue-white glow of a transporter beam, and disappeared from sight. He swallowed, nervously, and made his way back out of the corridor, blasting at the flames as he went.


	22. XXII: Awakening

**This is the point where I say "Fanfic 100 Challenge be damned!" Yes, this story started as an FF 100 attempt. But...I can't limit the story to that any longer. I can't make the current plot fit the 100 requirements, and so I'm saying "to hell with it" and just writing the story the way I think it needs to be written. I'm sorry if sticking with FF100 thus far has caused the story to be of lesser quality, or if it's made the whole thing seem at all forced.**

On a more positive note...

Kaiba-Kun - I'm glad you liked this chapter. It was emotional, yes, in the end, and I couldn't help feeling badly for Data. As for Bruce Maddox...you may get your wish sooner than you think. ^^ He's not gonna be sleeping much longer.

_Awakening_

The Sickbay of the _USS Rorschach_ was in chaos when Data stepped through the doors, from the corridor outside, carrying a woman's body in his arms. Cohl spotted him coming in, cleared off one of the nearby biobeds, and snatched up both a medical tricorder and a hypospray. At first, Cohl was worried that he was bringing in Tatiyana, or one of the other _Rorschach_ crew. It wasn't until Data set the soot-marred body down that Cohl realized who and what she was dealing with.

Tasha Yar's body. Armus. The creature that had tried to kill them all.

_Damn Hippocratic Oath_, Cohl sighed to herself. She wasn't especially fond of the creature, and wasn't fond of the idea that she was bound to save the life of someone who was very likely just going to kill them all when she was up, awake, and aware anyway. She was a medical officer, though, and would do what was required. She wasn't going to start discriminating when it came to saving lives.

"What happened?" she asked.

"Lieutenant Yar was in the lower decks of the _USS Sutherland_'s saucer section when the junction she was located in caught fire," Data explained, "She stayed behind to seal off the airlock to the Captain's Yacht so we could deploy it against the creature that attacked us."

Cohl raised an eyebrow, a little suspiciously, finding the whole situation a little bit surreal. If what Data was describing was true, then...then this creature, this Armus character, had actually...sacrificed itself...so that the rest of them might live. It was a little unbelievable...but, then again, this was Starfleet. Unbelievable just came with the job description most of the time.

"Rahman, T'Lar," she snapped, to two nearby junior medics, "Someone get me a cortical stimulator, and a set of defibrillators. And cordrazine!" She paused, tapping her comm badge, knowing that there was one other person who might be able to assist. "Karn, get down here!" she ordered.

"_On my way_," he responded, quickly.

Data watched from the far side of the room as Cohl and the two junior medics went to work, trying to bring Armus...Tasha...both of them...back. And all the while, Data could see, as if ghosts, the shadows of Commander Riker and Captain Picard next to him, as well as Doctor Crusher and two other medics scurrying about an eerily similar sickbay, seven years ago.

"Defibrillators," Cohl called over to Munoz, "Now!"

Munoz threw her over a pair of handheld devices, which Cohl lowered to Yar's chest after letting them charge, briefly. No use. She tried a second time, this time doubling the charge. Still no use. It was on the third attempt that the sound of a steady beep sounded from the biobed, indicating that Yar once again had a pulse. That wasn't enough, though. Cohl glanced over at one of the bio-bed displays, and her eyes went wide.

"We've lost neural activity," she snapped, "Get me a cortical stimulator!" One of the medics swiftly lowered the device behind Tasha's head, and Data swallowed awkwardly, watching the scene play out in entirety just as it had seven years ago. There was a jolt, through the equipment, in an effort to restore activity in Yar's synapses. There was a second jolt. A third jolt. Each time, they kept increasing the voltage, increasing the speed of the current that was running through her body. Data was helpless to watch, hoping that something would happen, hoping that something - anything - might work.

The last charge did it. Tasha's eyes snapped wide open, and she gasped sharply as her thought patterns returned. She coughed, a few times, her lungs still thick with smoke and tar from inhalation during the fire. She glanced around, for a moment, her blue eyes scanning the room...and then, fading back to black. Armus had returned.

Karn stepped through the door, moving over to Cohl's side just as Armus sat up on the biobed. Cohl grabbed onto her arm, trying to settle her back down onto the bed's surface.

"What...happened?" Armus rasped. "I feel...strange."

"You've inhaled a lot of smoke," Cohl explained, laying her back down, flat, onto the bio-bed. "I still have a lot of work to do."

Armus scoffed, glancing at her hands, covered in black soot and grime.

"Next time," she mused, "I will have to pick a slightly less...flawed...form, when I am attempting to rest." She glanced over at Data, who was standing at the far side of the room watching her. "And you, Tin Man! Next time, you rig your own guidance system!"

Data wasn't sure what to feel, what to think, or what to say. A second ago, he had watched someone he'd grown to care a great deal about, someone who occupied a great deal of his waking thoughts, and someone who he thought he'd lost a second time come back, literally from death. He didn't have words to describe, or sufficient emotional experience to quite describe the relief, the joy, or the gratefulness that he felt right now. And so he did what any rational being would have done - he laughed.

His face was a wide smile, and he approached the side of the bed, not bothering to deactivate or control his emotion chip. He left himself laugh, let himself smile, let himself express all the happiness that he felt right now.

"What's so funny?" Armus snapped, clearly not amused.

"I...," he chuckled, "I seem to be...pleased. I am very...glad...that you are not dead."

Armus paused, not quite sure how to take the comment, or how to respond to it. For years, the only things that Armus had projected onto other beings was malice, hate, destruction, violence. Data was...glad...that she had not died? Either the android was malfunctioning, or Armus still had a great deal to learn about these organic beings, and the androids that mimicked them.

Data ceased laughing and approached Ensign Cohl, a half-smile on his face.

"Many thanks, Ensign," Data spoke, "I am...grateful, that you were able to assist in this matter."

Cohl smiled lightly, shrugged, and reached for a few other medical instruments.

"Don't thank me yet," she sighed, "I still have a long ways to go. We'll need to clear out her lungs to make sure she doesn't relapse."

Data nodded, glancing towards Armus anxiously.

"I shall assist Mister Wright with repairing the saucer section," Data explained, "We will need to restore full structural integrity in order to clear out the rest of the debris from the path of the stardrive section. May I rejoin you, here, when you are...repaired?"

Armus paused, not exactly sure what to think, but eventually nodded to Data, smiling lightly herself.

"You may," she answered, "But don't think for a minute that I'm letting Tasha out for any more strolls. You and I still aren't friends."

Data nodded, arching an eyebrow as he made an observation of his own.

"Perhaps not," Data noted, "Though you have done me a great kindness by saving my ship, and the beings that inhabit it. I consider you a helpful addition to the crew."

Armus paused, reddened slightly as she...blushed?...and crossed her arms.

"Get moving, Tin Man," she snapped, "I'm sure you've got work to do."

Data nodded, and then nodded to acknowledge Ensign Cohl. He moved towards the door, and stepped out into the hall as the door whooshed shut behind him.

Merrith Karn glanced back and forth between the door, Armus, and Cohl.

"So," he sighed, "What did I miss?"

"Starfleet Medical's business as usual," Cohl smiled, motioning to a hypospray on the far side of the room, "Here, give me a hand with this."

* * *

Jace Wright crossed his arms, surveying the damage to the lower decks of the saucer section. When he'd managed to restore the fire suppression system, it had been just soon enough to prevent the damage from spreading to the upper decks. It was going to take weeks at a proper spacedock, though, to repair the damage that had been done to the ship's superstructure and to the bulkheads here. It was probably also going to take a team of at least forty to fifty engineers, full-time, working around the clock. The blackened debris of the ceiling, the smoldered floor, the black gouges and scrapes along the walls, all of it was going to take a long time to fix.

As much as Wright despised his ship, and as much as the two of them had their differences...he couldn't help but feel very, very badly for the old girl right now. The hallway hummed, its emergency lights fading in and out sadly.

"Don't cry," Wright sighed, "It's gonna be alright, girl."

He wasn't sure if he was telling her, or telling himself. It was possible that the damage might not be reversible at all. They might just be best off building a whole new saucer. It wasn't unreasonable - half the _Sutherland_ had already been destroyed, and now the saucer was essentially scrap and parts. The entire outer hull would have to be refitted. Wright sighed, sourly, and set to work clearing debris.

A nearby panel, one of the few still active, sparked. It then flickered and died, its plating dropping to the ground nonchalantly. Wright moved over to it, softly adjusted a few of the wires inside, with almost a bit of...tenderness.

"Hey," he chuckled, "Don't you give up on me just yet. We're almost there. We'll have you home right soon."

The console flickered joyfully to life, and Wright crossed his arms in satisfaction, after replacing the LCARS display on the front of the unit.

"There," he smiled, "All better. See how much better things work when you don't try to piss me off?"

Another forty pounds of debris, or so, crumbled through the ceiling no more than five feet behind Wright as if in response. He turned, his eyes wide, and then turned back to the console, his face as miserable as it usually was.

"Well, glad to see you're feeling better," he snapped, now rather frustrated.

A couch fell through the ceiling, joining the rest of the debris on the floor. Wright, not in the mood to pick any more garbage up, just pulled out his phaser and vaporized the damn thing. The orange beam of light, of course, immediately set off the ship's alarms, as it was weapons fire in a major junction. The klaxons started to blare, and Wright clutched his ears and the side of his head in slight agony.

"Will you please turn that damn noise off?" he snarled.

After a few extra seconds, the alarms faded away. Wright waved his spengler wrench at the console threateningly, and then moved down the corridor. He'd done about as much as he could for this deck - he'd have to move on to repairing the ventral phaser array, now.

It was then that he had a cool chill down the back of his neck, like he was being watched. He turned, behind him, and spotted Lieutenant Commander Data, with his eyebrow arched curiously as usual.

"Can I help you, Commander?" Wright sighed.

"Perhaps," Data suggested, "Although I am not certain that you can clarify the matter, I am curious."

"About what?" Wright asked.

"You seem unusually biased against devices of a mechanical nature," Data noted, "Including myself. I am intrigued, thus, that you seem to...communicate with inanimate, unresponsive machines. You regard them, in many ways, as sentient creatures, and yet you scorn them. Why?"

Wright wasn't certain, at first, how to respond. Why exactly did he hate machines? Why did he make a point of letting them know? And why the hell was he having such a hard time answering this question? It certainly was a...conundrum, of sorts.

"I don't know," Wright admitted, pocketing a spengler-wrench, "I supposed you could say that me and these old birds have a love-hate relationship of sorts."

"But you do believe them sentient," Data noted, "Even when, based on their rudimentary programming, this is impossible."

"They're smarter than they like us to think," Wright sighed, moving still towards a turbolift. "They're crafty. They like to make us think we're the ones in control. They like us to think that we're the brains of the operation. At the end of the day...they're the ones that can carry out a quadrillion calculations per second, not us."

"Sixty-quadrillion in my case," Data noted, "Based on specifications along for - "

"The point," Wright interrupted, "Is that they're smart. But they're fickle. And sly. And if you give 'em an inch, they'll walk all over you."

"So you consider your existence a struggle of sorts, against the machines?" Data inquired.

"I suppose I do," Wright sighed.

"And what if the machines did not share this sentiment?" Data asked.

"Oh, believe me, most of them do," Wright chuckled, "And if they can make my life any more miserable than it already is, they will."

"Ah," Data responded. The two officers stepped into a turbolift, and at this point Wright was growing slightly suspicious.

"Why exactly are you following me?" Wright inquired.

"I believe I will be of assistance in making repairs to the saucer section," Data responded.

The turbolift hummed as it moved upwards, higher into the ship, shifting to a movement towards the aft of the ship near phaser control. Wright had his arms crossed, his spengler wrench still in hand, and Data was standing as stoically and...militarily as Wright thought possible. There was, however, a trace of a half-smile on the android's face. Wright scowled.

"You mind if I ask a stupid question?" Wright inquired.

"A question itself cannot be stupid, logically," Data noted, "Stupid is an adjective generally applied to one as a measure of that individual's intelligence, and as a question, though a noun, lacks both consciousness and sentience, the adjective becomes moot - !"

"What exactly _is_ going on between you and the swamp thing from Vagra II?" Wright asked.

Data paused, frowning slightly as he struggled to grasp the implication of the metaphor. Failing to, he shrugged it off and responded to the question as best he could.

"There is nothing 'going on', aside from our encounters at the funeral, Armus' presence on the bridge, and - "

"What about you and Tasha Yar, whoever she is?" Wright asked, curiously, "I mean, were you and here really...?"

"That is not a 'stupid' question," Data noted, "It is, however, one that I am not at liberty to answer."

Wright nodded at the answer, catching the implication instantly.

"Ah," he remarked, "I see." His facial expression wasn't quite one of disgust, but one of rather morbid fascination.

"Is there something wrong, Mister Wright?" Data asked, as the turbolift came to a halt.

Wright winced, sighed, and started to make his way out of the turbolift. Data followed him, as he expected the android would.

"It's just," Wright groaned, "Well...strange. A woman and a machine. Just seems a bit...well, unnatural."

Data paused, nodded his head, and turned his glance back to Wright.

"You are mostly correct," Data noted, "Although your argument possesses slight flaws. I am indeed an unnatural being, unnaturally created, but my positronic brain is in many ways similar to your organic one. However, love itself as many humans describe it, or the long-term monogamous bonding of individual couples is itself slightly unnatural, and yet practiced throughout the galaxy."

"Because of the rewards, I guess," Wright sighed, "To have someone you trust, by your side, no matter what. Somebody who cares about you, and someone who you care about in return."

"Forming a symbiotic relationship," Data noted, "But still a slightly unnatural one based on human pre-civilization evolution. There are a great many things that humans do each day that are, as you said, Mister Wright, 'unnatural', and yet they pursue those things nonetheless. A relationship between a human and an android, in theory of course, is no less unnatural than the union of a human and a Klingon, or a human and a Vulcan. Both have been pursued in the past with great success."

Wright's head was spinning from the complete verbal barrage, but as he stepped into the phaser control room, he scoffed slightly.

"Humans and machines," Wright chuckled, dryly, "Still pretty strange to me."

"Strange, perhaps," Data noted, "However...based on your current appraisal of the ship's status as a sentient being, if you are not prepared for a monogamous partnership perhaps you should endeavor to make your dialogue with the starships you repair slightly less casual. It could easily be mistaken by a sentient being, even a mechanical one, as an attempt at flirting, or perhaps even intimacy."

_"Cohl to Data!_" trilled the android's commbadge, cutting Data off before he could frighten the Engineer any further, "_She's awake. You can return to the stardrive section anytime now._"

"Acknowledged," Data responded, nodding slightly to Wright, "Good luck with your repairs."

With that, the android left the room. Wright couldn't help staring very, very suspiciously at a nearby console, which was flickerinng warmly at him. He swallowed, nervously, and began, very silently, to start repairs, careful to be a great deal more...professional...with his work than usual.

* * *

Data stepped back into Sickbay after a short walk from the transporter room, and was relieved to see that Armus was sitting up, and did appear to be in good, if not perfect, health. Karn was standing off to the sign, checking and double-checking tricorder readings, marveling slightly at his findings, and Cohl was shutting down the monitor that had been giving them readings on Armus' biosigns. Cohl sighed, smiled, and motioned towards Armus as soon as Data stepped into the room.

"I've given her a hypo to dissolve the ash, and the tar," Cohl explained, "She might have a cough for a few days, but she should be just fine now."

Armus sighed, rolled her eyes, and crossed her arms in slight frustration.

"Next time I'll just pick out a form that doesn't have lungs," she snapped, "It's not like I really need them." She glanced back and forth between Karn and Cohl with confusion on her face. "How can you stand being so...feeble? I mean, really? Doesn't it ever just get to you?"

"That's what makes it all so interesting," Karn chuckled, still marveling at his tricorder readings. The implications of his observations on Armus were...fascinating, to say the least. He saved the recording, and decided he'd discuss it with Data later, if they had a chance to play it back. "Though I must say, Armus, you're a rather interesting individual yourself."

Cohl glanced up at Karn, curiously, almost interpreting the words as some sort of implication or admiration. Karn only had to tap the surface of the tricorder at his side, and Cohl understood perfectly.

"So, can I go now?" Armus asked, impatiently, "I'd really not rather be stuck in here any longer than I have to."

Data stepped forward, beside her, and half-smiled, in that coy manner that only Data could properly manage.

"If you believe you are able," Data explained, "I see no reason that you cannot return with me to the saucer section."

"Wonderful," Armus sighed, rolling her eyes, "You've just brought me back from the brink of death, and back we go into the flying saucer. You organics are a truly bizarre race."

She made her way, sharply, out of the room, with Data following along closely behind her. Cohl sighed, crossed her arms, and frowned.

"Karn?" she asked, "Have you ever had one of those...moments?"

"What sort of moments?" Karn inquired, pulling the tricorder back out and loading up the readings.

"Where you do something...and you get this feeling, deep down, that you're going to regret having done it later?" she sighed.

Karn paused, loading up the scans he brought up on a microscopic level, so that he could further study the results. Tasha Yar's physical form was mimicked on the cellular level - the only real indication that Armus was in fact the one standing before them were a concentration of black microbes in the optic nerves and her cerebral cortex - thus, the black-colored eyes. When Tasha regained control, the microbes seemed to disperse, to separate...and they seemed to rejoin whenever Armus wrested control back. It was all quite...fascinating.

"How so?" he asked her, softly.

"Armus killed three hundred people," Cohl observed, "And I just brought her back from death's brink."

"Actually, she was a little past death's brink, if I remember right," Karn chuckled, "You don't give yourself enough credit, Lissa."

"That's not the point!" Cohl interrupted, crossing her arms in frustration. "I just honestly hope that saving her life doesn't end up killing us all later on."

Karn shrugged, frowned, and just shook his head at the suggestion.

"I'm not sure what to tell you," he admitted, "But...I guess we're just going to have a little bit of faith in her. She is our guide, at the moment, after all. We just have to hope that she doesn't let us down."

Cohl glanced across sickbay to where the unmoving body of Bruce Maddox still lay, comatose.

"I don't honestly think I can buy into that hope," she admitted.

Karn sighed, and moved across the room to where Bruce was sleeping.

"Still nothing?" he asked.

"Nothing," Cohl sighed, defeatedly. "And I'm dead out of ideas."

"Ah," Karn sighed, now crossing his own arms. "Then I guess...again...we just have to keep on hoping. We have to have a little faith."

Cohl chuckled darkly, up at Karn from across the room.

"I don't know where you're keeping this secret stash of hope and faith that you're always on about," she groaned, "But I'd be ever so grateful if you'd hook me up with a hypo's worth of it."

Karn approached Lissa, and after a moment reached her arms around her, closely, and held her in a soft, tender embrace. They had been friends a long, long time...and he knew, just from the sound of her voice, when she needed this.

"Hang in there," he whispered, "We'll be out of this soon. All of us."

* * *

Data and Armus walked, side by side, down the busy corridor to the transporter room. Armus seemed slightly more alert than usual, and slightly more serious than usual as they shuffled through the waves of crewmen and equipment. Everyone was preparing to get back underway, and each division was preparing in their own ways. Weapons and ammunition were being moved to one of the cargo bays, medical supplies were being dropped off in Sickbay, officers were rotating shifts, there were a great number of things taking place. Armus felt slightly...out of place, among all of it.

Regardless of what had happened on the _Sutherland_'s saucer section, this was not her place, and these were not her people. They had all pretended to be pleased when she'd woken up, but she'd sensed something else from Cohl...something darker. They still didn't trust her. They still didn't like her. Not that Armus could really blame them - after all Armus had done, how could they?

Hopefully, this would be done soon. She would reach the Shining Ones, she would have her revenge, and then she could leave this place, and these people behind. The only ones she was regretting leaving behind were the android, Tin Man...and, perhaps, the Chekov girl, who seemed to have developed a sort of friendly rivalry with her, at Tactical. They were good people...but everyone else seemed so cold.

Data noticed the sobered expression on her face, and paused, glancing at her curiously.

"Does something bother you, Armus?" he asked, uncertainly.

"Dying does that to a person," she shrugged, crossing her arms, "I don't quite know how to describe the experience." She frowned, and kept walking. Data followed along behind her.

"I am pleased that you returned," Data noted, "And Lieutenant Chekov will be pleased as well."

"I'm sure she will," Armus scoffed, "I'll be back from the dead just in time to buy her the shots she won."

"As a matter of fact," Data countered, "Lieutenant Chekov stated following the creature's destruction that currently she owes you four standard shot measurement units of a substance called Vodka. I assume that she meant of a synetheholic variety, however, if the drinks that she imparts you with does possess alcoholic properties, I discourage you from bringing it to my attention. As senior officer, I would be obliged to confiscate them."

Armus smiled, slightly. She'd won the bet - that was the best news she'd heard all day. It was small news, of course, but good news. She cleared her throat, and kept moving down the corridor, turning into a familiar chamber she recognized as the _Rorschach_'s transporter room. Her smile quickly turned into a frown, and she stopped near the doorway with her arms crossed, glancing at Data.

"You know what was strange about it?" she asked.

"No," Data responded, "What was strange about it?"

"It just...I don't know," Armus sighed, "I was about to die...and all I could think about is that I'd lived hundreds, thousands of years...but that there wasn't a single being in the galaxy who was going to miss me. I was...alone. Just like on Vagra II. I was...all alone."

She moved to the other side of the room, standing near the wall, trying to avert her eyes.

"I just..." she whispered, "I didn't want for it to end...quite like that."

"You wanted your revenge on the Shining Ones?" Data inquired.

"Not really," Armus sighed, "That was part of it...but that wasn't all. To them...I was just an extension, a cog. And when I stopped working, I was thrown away. But...you brought me back. All of you. And I don't understand why you did it."

"Because that is Starfleet's way," Data explained.

Armus smiled, and for a moment Data almost forgot that Armus was the one in control, not Tasha. Their facial gestures, at moments, were most...similar. Congruent, even.

"I wish things had been different," Armus spoke, "I mean, if I hadn't taken over the _Sutherland_...and killed all those people...maybe..." Her voice trailed off, and she shrugged. "Never mind. Let's just get back to the bridge."

Data paused, cocked his head slightly, but then nodded.

"Agreed," he spoke, stepping up onto the transporter pad. Armus followed him, stepping onto the pad next to his. Data glanced up, towards the transporter chief who was standing at the console at the rear of the room.

"Energize," Data ordered. There was a blue-white glow surrounding Data and Armus, as they vanished from sight, disappearing to the saucer section of the _Sutherland_.

* * *


	23. XXIII: Illumination

_Illumination_

"Acting Captain's Log, Stardate 48310.2. After several hours conducting repairs to the saucer section of the _USS Sutherland_, the _Sutherland _and _Rorschach _are en-route, once more, to the edge of the Crystal Gorge. We will reach our destination within just a few minutes. I have been informed by Ensign Karn that the neutrino emissions in this area are significantly higher than they were in previous zones. I surmise based on this observation that we will shortly reach our objective, contact with those that Armus, now our guide, refers to as the Shining Ones. I can only hope that a means might be found to communicate with them, so that their course for Earth may yet be altered."

Data flicked the recorder at the side of his chair off, and then glanced around the bridge eagerly. Armus and Chekov were still off to one side of the room, blasting away debris. Gallant was at the front of the room, his arms buried up to the elbow, nearly, in the console itself. As for Wright, Wright was sitting at Ops, grumbling each time the screeching of the outer hull plating intensified, and each time that a medium-sized crystal shard struck the ship.

"I'm amazed this thing hasn't come apart on us yet," Wright sighed, not looking forward to the repair job that this was bound to produce. Data, slightly ignoring him, glanced at a small sensor readout on the arm of his chair, watching the edge of the Gorge move closer, and closer. There was a trilling at tactical, and Tatiyana glanced up at Data, concern on her face.

"Keptin!" she called out, "Incoming transmission from the _Rorschach_. It's meestur Karn."

Data paused, arched an eyebrow, and stood, so that he would be in Karn's plain sight when the visual transmission commenced.

"Onscreen," he ordered.

There was a pause of a few seconds, and the image of debris from the crystal shards and little meteors racing by was replaced by the image of the battle bridge crew. Holtz was seated in the command chair, and Karn was sitting at Ops. Karn stood, a violet hue cast on his uniform by the dim red lights of the battle bridge, as he approached the main viewscreen and spoke.

"Commander Data," Karn explained, "I've detected another neutrino spike using the sensors on the stardrive section. We're definitely getting a lot closer, sir."

Data paused, leaning his head downward as he continued to watch, on the display, the edge of the Gorge nearing. He glanced back up at the viewscreen, his face tight in a half-frown.

"Thank you, Ensign Karn," Data acknowledge, then fixing his gaze on the half-Vulcan seated at the battle bridge's command chair. "Mister Holtz, once we clear the Crystal Gorge, we will initiate saucer reintegration."

"Very well," Holtz remarked, raising an eyebrow, "Though I must inform you that in its current structural state, the saucer section of the _Sutherland_ may prove more of a hindrance than an asset. We may wish to consider abandoning that half of the ship altogether."

"Like hell," quipped Wright from the Ops station, "After all the trouble we just went through to patch her up?"

"I am inclined to agree with Mister Wright," Data responded, "The phaser arrays and impulse engines on the saucer section will be of use to us. We may require them once we encounter the Shining Ones."

"Acknowledged," Holtz responded. "We shall make preparations for re-integration, Commander."

Holtz' image vanished from the viewscreen replaced by the image of the crystal shards, being blasted out of their path by bright orange phaser beams. Tatiyana smirked, and glanced over at

Armus with a confident, all-too-Chekov sneer.

"Vun hundred and ninety-three," she smiled. "Vill you be giwing me that bottle of wodka now, or vhen ve return to McKinley, _kollega_?"

"Don't get cocky," Armus snapped, blasting away another boulder of ice in their path. Armus' eyes flickered, for a moment, to blue, and Tasha took control long enough to fire phasers into an entire cluster of the large boulders. Tatiyana swallowed nervously, and struggled to blast away in tandem, in an effort not to fall too far behind. "That's one-hundred and ninety-eight, Sputnik," Tasha grinned, confidently, "That vodka of yours is starting to smell a lot like a good glass of scotch."

"Scotch!" Tatiyana sneered, as if shocked by the remark, "Scotch is a drink for little old women in Leningrad. And here I vos starting to like you."

Armus' eyes faded back to black, and the two tactical officers continued to fire away at the debris. As the little shards of crystal flew by, many of them scraping against the saucer section's hull, Wright started to notice that as they moved along, the color of the crystal shards seemed to be changing to a darker shade of blue, some of them almost completely black.

"That's strange," he remarked, "Anybody else notice the colors on those shards?"

"There has been no change in color," Data remarked, "There is a light source in our path, and the viewscreen is compensating by making the shards themselves appear darker. It is an adjustment of the viewscreen's overall brightness and contrast, to avoid blinding the bridge crew."

Wright stared a moment longer, crossed his arms, and shrugged almost grumpily.

"Must be pretty bright, whatever the hell it is," he remarked.

"Of course it's bright," Armus sneered, "We're getting close. I can hear them...the others...they're not far away."

Data watched as the edge of the Gorge appeared on the viewscreen. There was a light source several hundred thousand miles ahead, but even from this distance it was almost blinding. He could see it every once in awhile, between the crystal shards that were growing sparser and sparser the closer they came to the edge of the field. The targets for Tatiyana and Tasha were fewer, and fewer. Eventually, there was nothing but open space and the single source of light ahead, shining like a hot, white sun.

"Phew," Gallant sighed, turning back to face Data with a smirk, "I was starting to wonder if we'd ever get out of that."

"And in how many pieces," Wright remarked, under his breath.

Data paused, and then turned to Tatiyana.

"Signal Lieutenant Holtz to commence saucer re-integration," he ordered, "We will make way towards the source of the neutrinos shortly."

"Don't bother with neutrinos, Tin Man," Armus interrupted, motioning towards the bright spot on the screen, "Just use your eyes."

Data paused, curiously, and motioned towards the viewscreen.

"Armus, do you mean to say that the light source we are observing is the location of the Shining Ones?"

"No," Armus clarified, "I'm saying that the light source _is_ the Shining Ones." She paused, closing her eyes softly and smiling lightly to herself. "I can hear their song from here...just as it was before. It's beautiful."

The deck beneath them shook, unsteadily, as the magnetic interlocks from the stardrive section finally connected with those from the saucer, forming a single ship once again. Armus was almost launched to the ground, and would have ended up on the floor if she hadn't come out of her reverie and braced herself against the station in front of her. Tatiyana was forced to do the same, and Gallant slipped off of his chair, kept upright only by the prosthetic limbs he had interfaced with the ship's navigation console. Data wasn't so lucky, and actually ended up on the floor, in front of the command chair. After a few seconds, the shuddering stopped, and Data stood, brushing himself off.

"Inquiry," Data remarked, cocking his head to one side, "Wright, can you speculate as to - ?"

"Superstructure damage," Wright interrupted, before Data had the chance to form his question. He stood, stormed over to the android, and pressed a finger firmly against the android's chest, aggressively. "Which we wouldn't have to deal with if a certain android captain hadn't decided to use the saucer section as a bulldozer. Now, if you'll excuse me, I guess I have to fix the interlocks, too!" He snarled slightly, and then flew furiously into one of the turbolifts.

"Always something new to clean up," he grumbled, as the doors started to close, "I feel like the bloody maid - !"

The doors closed, and the bridge was silence with the exception of light giggling from Tatiyana at Wright's reaction. Data arched an eyebrow curiously, and glanced towards the station that Wright had just abandoned.

"Indeed a most curious human," Data noted. He reached up, tapping his commbadge, and speaking clearly so that a proper transmission would be sent. "Data to Battle Bridge. Ensign Karn, Lieutenant Holtz, please report to the bridge."

Data watched the light source with slight curiosity, as they began to approach it. It was still too distant for them to get any type of clear reading on it, and it was too soon to speculate as to what they were up against just yet. If they were anything like Armus, or their other 'by-products', he expected them to be extremely powerful beings. Sentient, powerful beings. Hopefully not as hellbent on destruction or mayhem as Armus and her kin seemed to be, at moments.

The turbolift doors opened, and both Holtz and Karn stepped onto the bridge, Karn immediately headed for Ops, which was typically his station anyway, and Holtz stood beside the command chair, next to Data. The presence of the half-Vulcan seemed to bother Armus, who kept unusually silent, watching her console and trying to occupy herself so that the man wouldn't make note of her. Holtz, being a Vulcan of remarkable perception, did indeed notice the strange behaviour. It only inclined him further to look up her file, when he had time on his hands that would allow for it.

"The ship is yours, Commander," Holtz spoke, glancing at Data, "Though you appear to have all of the tactical officers you need, at the moment, and more. Permission to retire to my quarters?"

"Granted for the time being," Data replied, "Though I will call on you if I have need of your services again."

Holtz nodded to him, then nodded to Armus. He stepped back into the turbolift, leaving the bridge crew in relative silence. Data stood, moved forward, and approached the Ops console.

"Ensign Gallant, set a course for the source of the neutrinos and engage at full impulse. Ensign Karn," he ordered, "Run a full long-range sensor sweep on the source. I want your analysis as soon as you have observations."

"Aye, sir," the Deltan responded, setting to work immediately.

Armus couldn't help having her attention drawn to the Deltan man. Something about him...about his bald head...it almost made her feel ashamed, as if she were staring at a naked man, sitting right here on the bridge. It was bizarre...strange...and awkward.

"Sputnik," Armus whispered, hopefully so that Karn couldn't hear, "The bald man, does he always look like - ?"

"Always," Tatiyana nodded, with a giggle and a smile, "Deltans. They're an adwanced empathic and telepathic species. Don't vorry, you'll get used to it."

Armus felt like countering, but didn't. The fact of the matter was that Armus _wasn't_ going to get used to it. Their journey was almost over. The Shining Ones were in striking range, almost in reach. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and she could feel the revenge that she'd sought from the beginning approaching fast. She was strong again...her powers were at their full capacity, their full limit. When they reached the Shining Ones, rest assured, she would have her revenge.

"I have something," Karn called out, glancing up at Data.

"Continue," Data pressed.

Karn brought up a display of what looked like seven individual lights in a cluster, in varying sizes. Each of them seemed to be radiant in nature, each of them not unlike little stars or suns in appearance. Data couldn't help but admire how aesthetically pleasing the shapes were, and neither could the remaining bridge crew.

"They're beautiful," Tatiyana remarked.

"Beauty, my dear Russian, is in the eye of the beholder," sneered Armus, "They're actually very ugly on the inside."

Karn motioned to the largest of the shapes, and began his explanation.

"The Shining Ones are...well, an anomaly to say the least, Captain," Karn remarked, "Radiant beings, almost ethereal...they are here, and yet they're not here. Almost as if they're taking up more than one plane of reality simultaneously. Tachyon emissions are off the charts." He traced a circle around the largest star shape, and brought up a second display - a size comparison between the floating orbs and a Nebula-Class starship. "What's really fascinating is that despite the light source they're giving off at that range, they're really quite small. I would say no larger than a third the length of the saucer section each, the largest one being maybe forty percent its length instead."

"That's an insane amount of light waves coming from one object," Gallant noted, glancing up from his console.

"It is," Armus interjected, "The Shining Ones pride themselves on their ability to dazzle, to shine, to dance...they believe that they are the height of evolution, of natural beauty. They're an extremely vain race of beings."

"Race?" Gallant asked, "But there's only seven of them."

"That's because there's only seven left," Armus snapped, "It's been millenia since any more have been created. They advanced themselves at the expense of their ability to reproduce. Instead, they've focused on keeping a few beautiful, at the expense of the...less perfect among them. Like me."

Gallant paused, nodded, and Karn continued his lecture.

"They aren't organic or carbon-based, obviously," he explained, "Their cellular structure, or what appears to be cellular, is made up mostly of what looks like silicates, cadmium, and several other substances I've never seen before. It's unlike anything we've ever encountered."

"Almost anything," Data interrupted, "The _Enterprise_ encountered a similar life form on a terraforming colony a year following the Farpoint Station mission."

"Microbrain," Armus interrupted, from the far side of the room, "The microbrain, yes. Tasha remembers it. They might work on the same sort of level...where each individual cell contributes to the consciousness and power of the whole."

"A collection of less than one hundred cells nearly destroyed the _Enterprise_," Data remarked, "A microbrain, or a life form similar to it, of the size recorded by our sensors would be a...most tactically challenging opponent."

"Microbrain was also a lot simpler," Karn noted, "Rudimentary. I've read about it, yes. But...these things are different. They're surrounded by an energy field, similar to the ones that Armus is capable of projecting. But...the field is there and it isn't. Just like them. They're there, but they aren't. If I didn't know better, I'd say we were chasing a ghost."

Data paused, watching the readings with fascination.

"Have you established their level of intelligence, or a means that we might be able to communicate with them?" he asked.

"Not yet," Karn remarked.

"Sir," Gallant interrupted, "We'll enter communications range of the Shining Ones in one minute. We'll have weapons range within two."

"Thank you, Mister Gallant," Data remarked. He glanced over at Armus, who was intently gazing at the lights on the viewscreen. Her face was bent in a scowl. Tatiyana and Gallant, though, genuinely seemed to be enraptured with the sight of the approaching anomaly. Karn kept his eyes on the computer readings, and was fascinated by all the conflicted data and measurements that were pouring in.

"They're watching us," Armus whispered, "They can see us."

Data turned, towards her.

"Can you communicate with them?" he inquired.

"Not actively," Armus answered, shaking her head, "But...I can hear them. Their song...I can hear their song, in my mind. I can see their dance." She frowned even deeper, her spite growing more for the creatures like her by the minute. "It's...nauseating."

"It's beautiful," Tatiyana remarked, staring at the viewscreen as if in a trance.

"Yes..." Gallant whispered, in agreement and awe, "Beautiful..."

"Karn!" Armus snapped, from her station, causing the Deltan to turn around abruptly, "Get them off the main viewscreen!"

Karn nodded, a little apprehensively, and then replaced the image on the viewer with the sensor readings he was obtaining instead. They were basic LCARS displays, with scans of the interior and cellular structure of the Shining Ones instead of their external appearance. Immediately, Tatiyana and Gallant's focus seemed to return to them, and Tatiyana rubbed her eyes as if waking up from a dream.

"I'm sorry, keptin," she groaned, glancing over at Data with a yawn, "I must have...been distracted."

"They can't help it," Armus snarled, glaring at the android, "The Shining Ones are, quite literally, beings whose beauty dazzles all. I'd say that on this whole ship, you, me, and any strong telepaths are the only ones likely not to be affected." She motioned over towards Karn, and then turned back towards Data. "The Deltan should be fine. Holtz, too. But...I'd say that's about all."

Data paused, watching the sensor readouts before him. The distance between the Shining Ones and the _Sutherland-Rorschach_ was closing. The creatures seemed to be moving at a high velocity, though not as quickly as the full impulse of a Nebula-Class ship. The _Rorschach_ was overtaking them, slowly but surely. After a few minutes, they would be in very closer proximity...an almost dangerous proximity.

"We're in veapons range," Tatiyana noted, glancing up from her console, "Vould you like me to charge phasers and load torpedoes, keptin?"

"We must attempt a peaceful resolution," Data explained. "We will not fire unless no alternative measure can be reached."

"Fire away," Armus sighed, miserably, "They won't listen to you. Any of you. They consider races like yours to be beneath them."

"Nevertheless," Data argued, "We must make the attempt. Lieutenant Tatiyana, begin broadcasting a standard greeting on all frequencies. Attempt to make contact with the creatures."

"I suggest sending out a series of tachyon pulses from the main deflector," Karn interrupted, "Set on a low amplitude. It would probably be like sending them a tickle."

"A tickle?" Armus groaned, throwing her arms in the air, "You want to make first contact with 'a tickle'?"

"As long as it is perceived as a non-threatening gesture, it may be an effective means of opening communication," Data remarked. "Bring us within a close range, to ensure the effect of the tachyon pulse."

"Aye, sir," Gallant responded, steering the ship even closer to the anomalies outside.

Armus started to hold her head, as if she were experiencing discomfort, or some sort of headache. She sighed, heavily, and took a deep breath afterward. She crossed her arms, glaring at the sensor readouts on the main viewscreen, watching the Shining Ones with great contempt.

The _Sutherland-Rorschach_ came to a slow crawl, alongside the creatures, and Karn glanced up at Data, swallowing nervously.

"We're in position," Karn started, "Shall I begin to transmit the tachyon pulses?"

Data paused, and took his seat at the command chair. He glanced back and forth between each and every member of his bridge staff. This was what they'd been waiting for. This was what they'd travelled light-years for. The loss of the _Sutherland_, traversing the Pavel Nebula and the Crystal Gorge, all of it had brought them to this brink, to this moment, to this impasse. Within just a few more days, at their current velocity, the creatures would reach Earth. When that happened...two hundred years of work on the part of Starfleet and the United Federation of Planets would be undone. Billions of people would die. This was not an option. This would not be allowed to happen.

He tugged down at the front of his bright red uniform, in the same manner that Captain Picard would, and watched the main viewscreen intently.

"Ensign Gallant, take us into position. Mister Karn," he ordered, "Power up the main deflector. Begin to emit the pulse."

Karn took a deep breath, and hit a series of switches on his console.

"Aye, sir," he sighed, "Pulse engaged."

A bright blue, soft beam reached out from the _Rorschach_'s main deflector, wrapping its glow around the white balls of light ahead. The ship hummed, as the deflector continued to transmit the pulse and the deflector continued to generate more and more tachyon particles.

Armus gripped her console, in mild frustration, as the humming persisted. She could still hear the song, could hear the voices, and could hear the chorus. The noise of it all was driving her insane. She wanted to make them hurt, to make them pay. She wanted them to know just how much harm they had done her, by abandoning her on Vagra II. Everything...all of it...had been their fault, after that.

"We should open fire," Armus hissed, "If they wanted to talk back, they'd have done so by now."

Data glanced over towards Karn, curiously.

"Has there been any response?" he inquired.

"No change in their emissions, their intensity, anything," Karn sighed, motioning towards the display. "I don't even know if they hear us."

"Oh, they hear," Armus snapped, "They're just not about to answer."

There were another few minutes of silence as the beam continued to transmit. Data couldn't help wondering, at this point, if perhaps communication was truly no longer an alternative. Gallant sighed, and glanced back at the android.

"Why aren't they answering?" he sighed, "You'd think they'd have gotten the hint by now."

Data glanced over at Karn, curiously.

"Can we intensify the beam by raising its amplitude?" he asked.

"Maybe," Karn answered, "But there's always the risk that if we do, it's going to be interpreted as a hostile - "

Before Karn could finish his sentence, one of the seven lights disappeared from the main viewscreen. Karn glanced up at it, curiously, and refreshed the sensor scans to make sure the readings he was getting were still correct. One of the lights seemed to have vanished outright.

Before Karn could open his mouth to remark on the disappearance, Armus had moved away from her console and drawn a hand phaser. She reached up and tapped her comm badge, terror on her face.

"Intruder alert!" she cried out, "Security teams to the bridge!"

There was no response. No one seemed to be able to hear her. Armus glanced over at Data, her face anxious, almost frantic.

"I can hear them," she barked, "They're here. They're watching us."

Data stood from his chair, drawing his own phaser. No sooner had he done so than there was a great flash of white light on the bridge, and a large, brilliant glowing orb appeared in front of them. Data and Armus immediately turned their weapons on it, and Karn shielded his eyes from the brightness of the thing. Gallant turned from his station, and Tatiyana stood, almost motionless, at hers. The two human officers were just staring at it, entranced.

"Lieutenant Chekov," Data barked, "Ensign Gallant, respond!"

"They can't," Armus snapped. Her eyes fluttered shut for a moment, and when she opened her eyelids again, even the whites of her eyes had become black. There was no question now that Armus was the one in control, or that Armus was the consciousness controlling Tasha's body. "They want to talk to me."

"How?" Data inquired, "By what means?"

Armus paused, about to explain, but smiled softly. Her face was still slightly bent in a scowl, as she glared at the white, glowing anomaly before them.

"It would be so much easier," she spoke, "To just show you." She reached her hand out to him. Data paused, for a moment, eyeing her apprehensively. He reached his hand out, finally, taking hers into it.

Armus reached out, touching her fingertips against the surface of the Shining One.

There was a bright flash of light. Karn closed his eyes, overwhelmed by the intensity of the flash. When he reopened his eyes, a stunned Gallant and Chekov were coming to their senses, and the command chair in the center of the bridge was empty.

Data and Armus were gone.

* * *

Everything was white, and everything was glowing. There was no place, there was no time, there was a blinding white eternity. Data glanced over, beside him, and there was Tasha. No, Armus. She was still grasping onto his hand, and was lovely in the glow of the lights around them. Data glanced to either side, still observing nothing but the whiteness and the glow. He arched an eyebrow, his golden eyes studying their surroundings curiously.

"Intriguing," he noted, "Where have we been taken, Armus?"

Armus was silent, her face tight in a frown. She pointed ahead of them, to where the light was particularly bright. There were seven distinct lights, the largest and brightest of them in the center. The glow from them was blinding, or would have been to an organic, natural being. Fortunately, neither Data or Armus were especially natural beings.

"This is our home," she explained, "Our plane. This is where we exist...where we live. Where we thrive."

She stepped towards the lights, guiding Data by the hand as the two of them approached the source of the lights. After a few steps, she moved into a bright, white barrier, and bounced about a foot off of it. Recoiling slightly and brushing herself off, she stared at the white lights on the other side of it.

"It was home, anyway," she sneered.

A booming, almost deafening voice spoke, seeming to come from anywhere and everywhere.

"Armus the Fallen," the voice called out, "You are no longer welcome in this realm. You are a lesser being. You are imperfect. Why have you come?"

Armus sneered, crossed her arms, and watched the center light with contempt.

"I see that time hasn't dulled your wit, Garmaias," she spoke, "Or your arrogance."

The light moved closer to the barrier, closer to Armus and Data. Reactively, Data drew his phaser.

"Your weapons are of no use here," the voice called out, noticing the gesture. Data holstered his phaser, and the creature hovered just a little closer to the barrier. "You speak in finite terms, as a finite being," the voice boomed, to Armus, who stepped back at the sheer intensity of the sound, "Time has no sway here. Matter, space, time, reality...all of it is lesser, here. Beneath us. We are in all, around all. We are infinity incarnate."

Armus placed her hands on her hips, a scowl on her face.

"The same song, the same dance," she sneered, "I've come for you. All of you. I'm going to make you all regret what you did to me."

The booming voice softened, and chuckled lightly for a time. The glowing, bright light moved back towards the other lights, the barrier still up, preventing Armus from approaching.

"You cannot," the voice mused, "Your powers are insufficient. You are finite. You are lesser. Look! You have even taken the form of lesser beings, and you walk among them. Why?"

"The 'lesser beings' didn't abandon me on Vagra II," Armus snapped. Her eyes darkened, and she reached out a hand. A bright, wave of light shot forth, from her hand, striking against the barrier. She grimaced, and several more bursts of light shot forth, deflecting harmlessly against the light barrier, dispersing into thin air.

"Perhaps the question is too complex for you," the voice sneered. "You!" it called, to Data, "You are not an organic. Why do you, then, dwell among them?"

Data stepped forward, addressing the center light as politely as possible.

"Respectfully, sir," Data responded, "I dwell among them because I learn from them. My experiences among them have allowed me to grow, and exceed my original parameters. They have allowed me to evolve, by their presence. You might observe them as lesser beings, but I assure you that there is an ineffable, admirable quality about them. Perhaps dwelling among them, becoming as one of us, you, too, might come to admire the lesser beings that you consider yourselves so beyond."

"Contradictory foolishness," the voice remarked, "Your evolution is flawed. You degenerate and defile yourself."

"On the contrary," Data countered, "I am both honored and proud to have gained so much knowledge of 'lesser beings', from my time among them. They are my friends, my colleagues, and my family."

"They are irrelevant," the voice boomed. "Armus has come to destroy us, synthetic being. Why have you come?"

Data stood, his face serious and stern. He spoke now with conviction, attempting to present his case as best he could.

"You have been found depositing malevolent, aggressive beings on multiple worlds, some of which were home to pre-industrial and pre-warp civilizations," Data explained, "They have attacked and killed numerous 'lesser beings'. You are currently on course to a planet called Earth, home to billions of life forms. If you deposit any further of your kind on this world, you will destroy those life forms. I request, respectfully, that you plot an alternate course, and proceed to a different world."

There was a long silence. Data and Armus watched each other anxiously, and watched the lights even more anxiously. Finally, there was the sound of laughter. Booming laughter. Not a single voice, but a chorus. All seven voices.

"We have spent thousands of years besting ourselves," the loudest voice spoke, "We have transcended all. We have become the most beautiful, dazzling creatures in the cosmos. Our beauty must be preserved. We will not divert our course. Our remaining imperfections will be abandoned."

"Imperfections?!?" Armus snapped, throwing another wave of energy at the barrier, a larger one this time. The wave, again, was dispersed. "Is that all I am? All any of us are? Imperfections?!?"

The laughter resumed, and then the chorus was quiet. Armus looked furious, flustered, even closer to tears. She threw wave after wave after wave of energy at the barrier, to absolutely no avail. The laughing persisted, despite her despair and her frustration.

"Stop it!" she shrieked, "Stop laughing!"

Data reached out, placing a hand softly on her shoulder, consolingly.

"Armus," Data spoke, "You are imperfect. As am I. As are we all. Many of those imperfections are part of who we are...what we are. They are what drive us to improve. To evolve. Perfection, while an ideal state of being, would almost certainly result in a most unremarkable universe."

Armus crossed his arms and glanced downward, hot black tears starting to stream down her face. The laughter died down, and the brightest light moved closer to the barrier.

"While you amuse us," the voice called out, "We have no more time for discussion, or for debate. You are irrelevant, Armus. You, and all the lesser beings. Your Earth will serve as our next cleansing place. If you resist, you will be destroyed."

Before either Data or Armus had a chance to respond, the white light intensified, and there was a bright flash.


	24. XXIV: Resistance

_Resistance_

When the flash faded, they had returned to the bridge of the _Sutherland-Rorschach_, to the sight of Karn and Tatiyana watching them with phasers drawn.

Karn was the first to breathe a sigh of relief and holster his weapon.

"Thank God," he breathed, "We thought you were another one of the Shining Ones."

Data was about to respond when Gallant turned from his console, his face puzzled. His console was beeping, trilling, and making every manner of noise imaginable as it started to track what seemed like a new trajectory coming from the seven lights outside.

"Captain!" he called out, "You might want to take a look at this."

Data stepped down towards the console, watching as the seven lights started to move away, at a higher speed than before. Immediately, he set to work on new calculations. They had finally accelerated to Warp One speed, by a slight margin. They seemed to be making a more direct route...a quicker path, as if spited by Data and Armus' attempt at communication. Data frowned, and noticed the new flight path that the Shining Ones seemed to have plotted out.

"They are accelerating," Data noted, "They are on a direct course for Earth. And at their present speed, they will arrive within approximately 19 hours."

Negotiation, Data's hope, had failed. There was no chance now of a peaceful resolution. But, at all costs, the Shining Ones had to be averted from Earth. If they would not change their course peacefully, then they left Data with no choice but an all-out engagement. Data moved to the rear of the room, taking his place in the command chair. He frowned, tugged down at his uniform front slightly, and motioned to the trajectory that the Shining Ones had taken on the main viewer.

"Ensign Gallant, plot a pursuit course at best possible speed," Data ordered, "Lieutenant Chekov, arm phasers and photon torpedoes. Set warheads for maximum antimatter yield."

"Aye, keptin," Tatiyana responded, her hands darting across the console.

Armus turned from where she stood, near the main viewer, glancing back at Data in disbelief.

"You honestly think a torpedo's going to do us any good?" she snapped.

"An antimatter explosion destroyed a creature like yourself who had possessed the leviathan we encountered in the Crystal Gorge," Data explained, "Logically, it is the one weapon at our disposal which may have effect."

Karn turned from the Ops console, his face in a frown.

"Commander," he spoke, "It's not quite that simple. They're not a solid mass. I don't know that a torpedo, even manually detonated, is going to have any effect at all."

"Nonetheless," Data observed, "It is the only option that remains. We must make an attempt, at the very least, to halt their progress."

Tatiyana glanced up grimly from her console, as the Shining Ones began to approach weapons range.

"Ve're almost there," she spoke, "Firing range in less than tventy seconds."

The bridge was tense, as everyone watched the main viewer. Gallant tensed as he pressed into the console with his hands, as if pushing the ship along himself. He seemed to be exerting a great deal of force, trying to keep up with the Shining Ones. Armus suspected that their efforts were in vain, and that the attack would fail, but was nonetheless hopeful. If this worked...she would at last have her revenge. Karn was taking as many sensor readings as he could, checking and double-checking every piece of information coming in, and Tatiyana was poised at Tactical, ready to fire.

Data leaned forward in his chair, waiting for Tatiyana's word.

"Ve have veapons range," she declared, glancing over at Data.

"Fire torpedoes," Data barked.

Two blazing red projectiles burst from the weapons pod on the _USS Rorschach_, their course headlong, straight, and true. They approached the Shining Ones, moving closer, closer, closer...their proximity was so close that they were almost at the point of impact...

The torpedoes passed harmlessly through the lights, disappearing into the blackness of space.

"Damn," Gallant sighed.

"Reload and fire again," Data commanded, "Set for manual detonation. Trigger the detonation when the torpedoes would collide with the Shining Ones."

Tatiyana nodded, and flicked a set of switches on her console again. Armus' hands were clenched into fists as she watched the viewscreen with a great deal of anxiety. Two more projectiles shot forth, again intercepting the seven balls of light. Tatiyana hit the detonator, and the two projectiles exploded into white and orange fire, engulfing all seven of the lights. When the explosion subsided, the lights were still there, and still active. Their glow, however, had changed from white to a darker red shade, a far more intense shade.

"Uh oh," Gallant remarked.

As they watched, the Shining Ones picked up speed once more. Gallant turned around, glancing at Data with his eyes wide.

"They've accelerated again!" he cried out, "Warp Three...Warp Five...Warp Six...Sir, at this point, they'll reach Earth in less than an hour!"

Data arched an eyebrow, worriedly, but his calm did not break.

"Lieutenant Chekov," he ordered, "Alert Starfleet Command. Advise them to begin evacuation of the planet, and to mobilize vessels in strategic defensive positions around the planet."

"Aye, keptin," Tatiyana nodded, sending the messages as quickly as she could.

Armus growled and lashed out, striking the wall beside her, as well as one of the consoles on it. Her strength was such that the console flickered and burst, spewing sparks everywhere.

"Lieutenant Wright will be most displeased," Data sighed.

"Lieutenant Wright?!?" Armus snapped, "I don't give a damn about Lieutenant Wright! Don't you get it, Tin Man? This is it! This is the end! Game over! We failed! Nothing can stop them, not now, not ever!"

Data was about to respond when he heard the sound of a certain Deltan, at the Ops station, clearing his throat. Data and Armus both turned to face Ensign Karn, who had a smile on his face about as bright as his uniform was blue, and he had his arms crossed as well.

"I've got it," Karn mused.

"Got what?" Armus grumbled.

"It," Karn chuckled, "Our ace in the hole. It's a good thing the Nebula-Class is a science ship...I doubt even a Galaxy-Class' sensors would have been able to pick up on this."

Data arched an eyebrow, and Armus frowned.

"Elaborate," Data ordered.

"Yes," Armus echoed, "Please do elaborate, Deltan."

"They exist between times, between planes of reality, between universes," Karn explained, "And the problem is that we're only firing weapons that can affect them in one. We fire a torpedo, they shift realities, the torpedo passes through harmlessly. All we're doing is provoking them."

Data paused, curiously taking in the conclusions.

"Continue," Data pressed.

"If we can cause a shift in the torpedo, cast some sort of temporal, existential wake around it," Karn thought aloud, "It would mean that no matter which plane they exist in, or which reality, the torpedo would impact. We'd have a weapon that we could use. And...based on what we saw in the Crystal Gorge..."

"If we can create an impact," Data postulated, "The creatures will be destroyed."

"But that's impossible," Armus argued, "You're talking about chroniton torpedoes. Those are only a theoretic technology, the stuff of pulp science-fiction holonovels."

"But we can create a similar effect by installing tachyon emitters and generators in the torpedoes themselves," Karn explained, "We can put them in a state of temporal flux. The following reaction of matter and anti-matter should be enough to separate the torpedo's impact into several planes, several space-time states."

"_Should_?" Armus snapped, "_Should_ isn't good enough, Deltan."

"It's the best I've got," Karn sighed, "And...it's really our only shot at this point."

Data paused, considering Karn's statement. There was only a 13.4% chance that Karn's theory would prove correct, based on current scientific data available to him. He frowned, but based on the information in his positronic brain, it was a higher probability of success than any other alternative presented.

"Proceed," he ordered, "Join Lieutenant Wright in the weapons pod, and construct a prototype warhead. Once you are finished, catalogue the design and replicate as many of the warheads as possible, and adapt them to existing photon torpedoes."

"An hour isn't going to give us an awful lot of time," Armus noted.

"It's the best we've got," Karn repeated, "But it should be enough for a few volleys, at least. We'll give 'em a good light show, if nothing else."

He stood, and moved towards the turbolift at the rear of the room, tapping his commbadge hastily.

"Karn to Wright," he called out.

_"What now?_" Wright grumbled.

"I need your help in the torpedo control room of the weapons pod," Karn answered.

"_You and that blasted android are about to blow my ship up again, aren't you?" _Wright snapped.

"Only a little, this time," Karn smiled, crossing his fingers to Tatiyana's amusement. "Scout's honor." There was a brief silence, before they heard the sound of Wright grumbling something out under his breath.

"_Fine_," Wright breathed, eventually, "_On my way."_

Karn stepped into the turbolift, a nervous smile on his face, and the door slid shut behind him.

Armus crossed her arms, glanced at Data, and sighed deeply.

"I hope this works," she remarked.

"As do I," Data responded, watching the main viewscreen, "As do we all."


	25. XXV: Retaliation

_Retaliation_

Sparks flew through the little bay as Wright used an old-fashioned plasma torch to weld the first of the new warheads into the torpedo casing. He had a mask over his face, blocking his eyes from the intense, bright flare of the torch in front of him. They had developed enough warheads for six, maybe seven shots. It wasn't a lot, but it would be enough. Provided, of course, that Karn's theory was correct. And provided, of course, that the Shining Ones let them live long enough to pose a threat at all. There were innumerable variables, and Wright didn't like the fact that their last ditch effort was going to be such an uncertain one.

"Almost done?" Karn called, from behind the Chief Engineer.

"Don't rush art," Wright snapped, "Assuming this even works, we're going to need to be sure that there isn't even the slightest flaw in these tachyon emitters. Otherwise, God knows where this torpedo, or our ship, might end up. We could fly through a temporal vortex and wake up next week in the 29th century."

"At which point we'd be a little late to do anything about the Shining Ones at all," Karn sighed.

"Just by about five hundred years," Wright groaned. Once the weld on the first warhead was secure, he nodded and turned to Karn. "There," he barked, "Load this one."

Karn adjusted the torpedo controls, and fed it from the loading area where it was positioned into the firing mechanism. As quickly as it had disappeared, it was replaced by a second torpedo. Wright hastily tore open the casing with his spengler wrench, and set to work with the plasma torch, welding a second warhead right into the torpedo itself.

The warhead itself, the one they'd designed, was about a foot wide, a foot and a half long, and half a foot tall. It was a boxy, helter-skelter piece of equipment, with a detonator, a small tachyon generator, and a series of emitters mounted at various angles. It wasn't the most aesthetically pleasing thing that anyone had ever come up with, but with a little luck, it would be just what the doctor ordered. Or what the android ordered, as the case might be.

After a few minutes, Wright had the second torpedo ready to go. Karn, again, fed it into the firing mechanism. The door behind them whooshed open, and the silhouettes of Data and Armus stepped from the corridor into the dark room.

"Status report, gentlemen?" Data inquired.

"I just got through telling the bald wonder," Wright snapped, "Don't rush art."

Armus glanced at the group of warheads piled up on the far side of the room, near where Wright was crouched, and scoffed as he started work on a third torpedo.

"Art?" she sneered, "It looks like you cobbled it together with paper clips and rubber bands."

"Ah," Data mused, "A twentieth-century stationary implement. Ill-suited to this particular task. Might I suggest, Mister Wright, that if in search of a twentieth-century implement that might be of better use, you refer to your discussion of some days ago regarding 'duct tape'..."

"You think this is funny?" Armus snapped, glaring at the android.

"I am merely making an observation," Data remarked. He watched as Wright finished the third torpedo, and loaded it. "Gentlemen, we have only another ten minutes to spare."

"We won't be ready by then," Wright growled, "We'll have four, maybe five torpedoes ready. And we'll have to leave the room when the firing mechanisms start to kick in."

"Agreed," Data noted, "Once you have completed work on the fourth, Mister Wright, proceed to Engineering. Mister Karn, you will proceed to the Main Bridge. We will engage the Shining Ones as soon as you are in position."

Karn and Wright glanced at each other, nodded, and glanced back at their commanding officer.

"Aye, sir," they responded, setting back to work.

Data stepped out of the room, closely followed by Armus. The corridor was empty - the weapons pod was one of the few areas on the ship with strictly limited access. They walked along in the silence, moving towards the turbolift that would bring them back to the main bridge. As they moved along, Armus' eyes started to shift from black to a soft, light blue. Tasha stopped in the middle of the corridor, and Data turned to face her, recognizing from her eyes, instantly, that Tasha had returned, if only for a short while.

"Data?" she asked, swallowing nervously, "Can we talk? For just a minute?"

Data paused, cocked his head, and nodded. "Of course, Lieutenant Yar," he acknowledged, "What would you like to talk about - ?"

"We've known each other a long time," she sighed, "And you still call me that?"

"What would you prefer I call you?" Data inquired.

"Just Tasha," she answered. She shifted slightly, uncomfortably, and glanced at him with a half-smile on her face, trying to reconcile right now the way that she felt. "Look, Data...it's hard for me to...to depend on somebody else. To rely on somebody else. Or to admit that...that I needed somebody else. But...I guess the fact is that I was in a very long, very ugly sleep. You woke me up from it. And...I think you woke Armus up from a bit of an ugly sleep, too. Armus is...different, now."

Data arched an eyebrow, intrigued, but at the same time still not quite certain what Tasha was getting at.

"Different?" he asked, "In what fashion?"

"Just different," Tasha sighed, "Data...I don't know how all of this is going to turn out. There's a good chance that when today's done, we're just going to be stray particles, floating from space."

"A likely outcome," Data remarked, "Probability of such an occurence is 58.4%, based on the conclusions drawn from - "

"Data," Tasha interrupted, "I just...for what it's worth, I want to thank you. Thank you for everything."

The two of them watched each other for a long while, each not sure what to say or what to do next. Finally, after several seconds, the two of them moved closer, leaning forward so that their lips were just nearly touching...

...the sound of a lewd whistle behind them startled Tasha, and she whirled around to see an amused Lieutenant Wright leaning against one of the bulkheads.

"Well, that's one mystery finally solved," Wright chuckled, mischievously, stepping near them to where the turbolift would open any second now. "You frisky little android, you, Captain," he smiled at Data, who arched an eyebrow curiously at the term, "Don't mind me, I'm just waiting for the lift."

Her face reddening, and her eyes shifting back to a deep, dark black, Armus crossed her arms and glared furiously at Wright.

"If I hadn't developed some restraint...and some respect, for you fleshbags over this journey," she growled, "I would turn into a Carnellian dragon-beast and bite your crunchy little head off."

Wright chuckled, crossing his own arms as the lift opened. He stepped forward, into the lift.

"Going down?" he asked.

Armus growled, and joined him. Data also stepped forward, about to enter the turbolift. Karn stepped into their stretch of the corridor as well, his eyes shifting back and forth between the three other officers.

"Did I miss something?" he asked, nervously.

"Shut up and get in," Armus snapped, impatiently.

* * *

Lissa Cohl paced impatiently, feeling trapped in Sickbay while the whole rest of the ship was preparing, again, to go into battle. This time, without any real hope of survival or success. It was frustrating, being stuck here and not being able to do anything about it. Usually, she had Karn to talk to at times like this. Good old Karn. But...at the moment, she was on her own.

Except for Bruce, of course. Comatose Bruce. Unconscious Bruce. She approached the motionless, hardly breathing body of her captain, pulled up a stool, and sat next to his bio-bed, watching his readings for what seemed like the millionth time that day.

She put her elbows on her knees, and her hands beneath her chin, resting her head as she watched him. He was sleeping...peaceful...content. He'd die in a slumber, not knowing the sort of terror or chaos that was running through the ship like a plague right now.

"Well...I guess that's all she wrote," Cohl sighed, "You're just going to lie there...aren't you? Just going to have a snooze, while the rest of us run around with our hair on fire." The Orion took a deep breath, and started to look on Bruce in the light of a silent confessor, right now. "I don't want to die," she spoke, softly, "I don't want it to end like this. I wanted to go home. I want to tell people I love them one last time. I want to leave something behind."

She leaned back, slightly, still watching Bruce's unconscious form. "I mean, look at you," she continued. "You're Captain Bruce Maddox. You've invented things and perfected things that have saved thousands of lives. Granted, with a little more time, you could have done a lot more...but what have I managed to do?" She sighed, stood, and started to pace, still watching his unconscious form.

"Bruce Maddox, you are a bundle of nerves. You stammer, and you get excited too easily, and you're the last person, in my opinion, who ever should have been given command of a starship. Except for maybe that blasted android, who's only managed to blow us apart a chunk at a time since he took command. But...you've always been able to find that silver lining, that way out. You've held us together. You made this ship...better. Just by being alive." She sighed, crossing her arms, watching his form hoping that he'd wake, but knowing that it was a fool's hope. "I really wish you were here to help us out right now."

Bruce Maddox said nothing. He continued to breathe. Whether he would ever wake up, really, was anyone's guess.

* * *

"Acting Captain's Log, Stardate 48313.1," Data spoke, tapping the log entry controls on his chair, in full hearing range of the bridge crew. Tatiyana, Gallant, Karn, and Armus all turned to face him as he spoke. "This may be the final log entry of the _USS Rorschach _and her sister ship, the _USS Sutherland_. We have armed the prototype chroniton torpedoes developed by Ensign Karn, who is to be commended, post-humously if necessary, for his original thinking. We are now on a direct intercept course for creatures that, if left to their own devices, intend to destroy Earth in order to further purify themselves. While the destruction of such beings is a severe loss to the diverse fabric of this universe, they have no regard for other life forms, and pose a serious threat to the Federation and her allies. It is our duty to pursue them and stop them by whatever means necessary. This is our intent."

He paused, taking a moment to glance over each and every member of his bridge crew. They had become close to him, dear to him. In the few days they'd spent together, they'd learned to function as a unit. From balalayka playing in the lounge with Tatiyana, to his long conversations with Bruce Maddox, to his bickering with Wright, Data had become accustomed and comfortable with this group, and was most proud to have served with him. He would always remember the crew of the _USS Rorschach_...and, if all else failed, he intended to make certain that the Federation would not forget them, either.

"This crew has served well. Beyond well. They are the like of officer that should be the aspiration of every Starfleet cadet, and the pride of every Starfleet admiral. As acting captain...I am proud and pleased to have served with them. Though we soar headlong into a most impossible situation...I do not believe that our deaths will have been in vain. If nothing else, our actions will buy time for an evacuation from Earth. If this should be our last entry, I hope that our stand will be one worthy of historical texts."

He tapped the switch at the side of his chair, ending the transmission. He glanced over to Tatiyana, who was manning her post at Tactical, her face in a flattered, but slightly sad, smile.

"Thank you, keptin," she whispered.

"Lieutenant Chekov," he ordered, "Eject a log buoy. In the event that we are destroyed, our record of these events will survive."

Tatiyana nodded, and hit a switch on her console. The aft torpedo launcher ejected a probe, one containing each Captain's Log recorded since the start of the journey. She wiped a few stray tears away from her eyes, and glanced back over at Data, smiling.

"The buoy is away, keptin," she croaked.

"Oh, stop," Armus groaned, rolling her eyes. "We're not dead yet. Don't put your funeral clothes on."

Gallant chuckled, dryly. Karn watched the seven lights of the Shining Ones at the Ops station, observing them as they moved closer and closer to Earth.

"We're running out of time," Karn moaned.

"Agreed," Data noted, standing from the command chair, and approaching Gallant at flight control. "Accelerate to attack speed. Plot intercept course and engage."

"Aye, sir," Gallant answered, pushing his hands into the glowing innards of the console, "Engaging."

"Lieutenant Chekov," Data ordered, "Target the focal point, as close to the center of the seven contacts as possible. Prepare to fire two of the modified torpedoes in burst."

Tatiyana nodded, grimly, locking the Shining Ones into her station as targets.

"Ready, keptin," she responded.

"Mister Karn," Data snapped, "Continue monitoring activity from the Shining Ones. Your observations may buy us more time."

"Aye, captain," Karn responded.

Armus simply shrugged, and crossed her arms in frustration.

"And I guess I'll just stand here and look pretty," she grumbled.

"You may remain on the bridge," Data noted, "You have a vested interest in this conflict. I thought you would want to see how these events resolve themselves."

"Right," she sighed, a little restlessly, "I just hoped I'd be a more active part of it."

"You have been," Data noted, "But...at the moment, there is nothing more you can do. We must make an attempt to use the torpedoes that Mister Wright and Mister Karn have modified for us."

"Mmm," Armus sighed, nonchalantly. "I suppose."

"Closing on the target, sir," Gallant reported, from the front of the room, "We are within firing range."

Data glanced back and forth, one last time, at each of the crew, as if this were the last glance he was going to have at any of them. The seven red lights on their sensors were moving closer, and closer. They would have to fire soon for the torpedoes to have the proper trajectory, and to detonate at the right moment. Data turned to Tatiyana, his face tight and determined.

"Prepare to fire, and manually detonate on my mark," Data barked.

"Aye, keptin," Tatiyana confirmed.

There were a few seconds of silence, and Data watched the sensor readouts on the main viewer, waiting until the Shining Ones were in just the right position. He stood, and the entire collective bridge crew held their breaths.

"Fire."

Tatiyana hit the switch promptly, and the two experimental torpedoes, glowing a deep, cerulean blue, spat forth from the weapons pod, careening across space towards the location of the seven red orbs. Each second brought them nearer and nearer to their targets, each second passing as an eternity for the bridge crew, who watched the two blazing blue lights approaching the dark red ones. Finally, the blue lights reached just the right point, and Data raised his hand, pointing towards the screen, his eyes wide and almost wild.

"Mark!" he shouted, turning towards Tatiyana, "Detonate the torpedoes!"

Tatiyana hit a second switch. On the main viewscreen, the torpedoes erupted not into a mere explosion, but into a small maelstrom. Tachyon and chroniton particles burst from the projectiles into a small storm, striking turbulently against the seven objects in space. Immediately, Armus doubled over, clutching at her forehead. Data turned to her, worriedly, but she waved him back.

"I'm alright," she snapped, "It's working...it's working!"

The maelstrom doubled, and then tripled in intensity, the blue storm smashing hard against each of the seven contacts, ultimately engulfing them. The seven contacts disappeared, replaced only by the maelstrom on sensors.

"We've lost readings on them," Karn reported, "Too many chroniton particles to tell anything else."

The crew watched the maelstrom in awe for a few moments longer, until it faded away. It took their eyes, and the sensors, to adjust to the decrease of the chroniton particles and the change in the lighting. For a moment, it appeared to them as if the seven lights had been extinguished. When the maelstrom died out, three lights remained, one of them the largest of the seven original lights. They were now growing a bright, violent orange-red. Their intensity increased rapidly, and Karn turned to Data with a look of terror on his face.

"Captain!" he cried, "I'm reading a massive buildup of energy readings from the three remaining contacts! I believe they're preparing to launch a counter-attack!"

No sooner had Karn finished the words then, from the largest red light, a bright white shockwave, a vicious, rapidly approaching destructive and expanding disk, ripped its way across open space right towards them.

Armus' eyes widened, and she knew that this was the end. Tatiyana watched the wave approach, staring what would surely be death straight in the face. Karn watched his console, counting down the seconds to its impact.

"Eight seconds!" he called out, "Seven! Six!"

"This is Commander Data! All hands!" Data barked, "Brace for impact!"

"Four! Three!" Karn called.

The wave grew larger and brighter as it approached, its intensity seeming to grow exponentially with distance. Gallant just stared at it, his expression akin to that of a creature caught in the headlights of an oncoming shuttle. He spoke the only words that came to mind right now.

"Oh, shit!"

Data, from the command chair, swallowed nervously.

"My thoughts exactly, Ensign."

"Impact!" Karn called out, terror thick in his voice, as the leading edge of the wave reached the saucer, colliding with them violently.

Everything went white.


	26. XXVI: The Cavalry

_The Cavalry_

The beautiful young Andorian lass continued to massage the Admiral's shoulders, much to his delight, as he took another sip from a sharp, fruity beverage in the little Risan restaurant. This was indeed the pleasure planet, and his shore leave here was much-earned, and much-appreciated. Starfleet, after all, owed it to him. He had saved Earth for not the third, but fourth time, five if you counted the invasion of the Borg-Cardassian alliance of three months past. Technically, though, he was sworn to secrecy on the matter, as it was only his daring, solo covert mission to the center of an oncoming Borg cube, after having infiltrated the Cardassian Obsidian Order, that had saved the day. To preserve the new alliance with the Cardassians, the mission had simply 'never happened', as far as Section 31 and the Federation were concerned.

The Admiral sighed, pleasantly, as the Andorian's ministrations to his shoulders moved to his back, and then just a little bit further down, to his lower back.

"Yes," he smiled, "Right there, my dear. That's the spot."

The Admiral and the Andorian masseuse weren't along, though. Sitting across the table in the little restaurant from him was his date for the evening, a pretty young Bajoran woman called Syrra. She was a blonde, with an absolutely stunning complexion, gorgeous blue-violet eyes, and lips that were almost too perfectly full. She had an adorable smile, and the way that she was watching him right now was incredibly...attractive.

"Oh, Admiral," she mused, "You're so brave."

"Yes, Admiral," echoed Karra, Syrra's sister, who was seated next to her, across the table. While both of them were very different and very distinct, they were both extremely lovely. "You're such very brave, brave man."

"Nonsense," the Admiral declared humbly, "I did what any Starfleet officer would have done in my place. I assessed the situation, took my target, and leapt into action. The _USS Rorschach-A_, an Agammemnon-Class assault carrier, which I myself helped to design, is actually the ship to whom I owe my life. She's about two kilometers long, with transwarp engines, forty rotating pulse phaser cannons, and sixteen tri-cobalt torpedo launchers. She's a good ship, with a good crew."

"And, of course," the Andorian masseuse remarked, returning her attention to his shoulders, "A good Captain, Admiral."

"Oh, nonsense," he chuckled, "I'm only captain when duty requires it..."

"Like when the Breen Armada attacked that helpless planet, and you fended them off with only the _Rorschach_?" asked Syrra, her voice as sultry as one could possibly imagine.

"Or when you sacrificed the _Rorschach_ to protect that freighter crew from the Klingon rebels, and flew a Bird of Prey single-handedly, without any senior staff, out of the wake of an exploding star?" Karra asked.

The Admiral shrugged, again very modestly, and smiled at the two ladies across the table from him.

"Now, now," he grinned, "You dear ladies have been listening to too many news reports."

"Then tell us what really happened," Karra pleaded.

"Oh, yes, please, Admiral," Syrra moaned, needily, "Tell us the story."

The Admiral took a sip of his drink, moaned pleasantly again as the masseuse moved towards his neck, and glanced up at her.

"I hate to trouble you," he spoke, "But could you get me another drink, please, my dear?"

"Of course," the Andorian lass smiled, "Anything for you, Admiral." She took the glass form him, and approached the bar nearby, as the Admiral took a deep breath, and began to tell his story.

"So there I was," the Admiral explained, "On the bridge of the _Rorschach_, under attack by three Negh'Var-Class cruisers, and two K'Tinga-Class attack craft. My tactical officer, Lieutenant Chekov, had been captured by the Klingon scoundrels, and I had to assemble an away team to recover her. I decided to lead it. As soon as we beamed over to the _Fek'Lehr_, we noticed that - "

"Admiral!" the Andorian called from the other side of the room, "I have an urgent message for you!"

The Admiral glanced over at her, in slight surprise. She approached with what looked like an old Earth telephone, a rotary phone, no less. She was dragging it across the room, its cord dangling along behind her. She plopped it down on the desk, so that the mouthpiece was in front of him. He took the earpiece from her, and raised it up so that he could clearly hear.

"This is Admiral Bruce Maddox," he spoke, staunchly, into the mouthpiece of the phone. "Go ahead."

"_This is Commander Data!_" a familiar voice, from somewhere else, somewhen else, cried out to him, "_All hands, brace for impact!"_

"Impact?" Maddox scoffed, as the girls began to giggle, "Impact from what?"

And then he spotted a wave of bright white energy coursing towards them from outside the bar. The girls screamed, ducking and covering underneath the table. The Andorian masseuse took cover behind the bar.

"My God!" Maddox mouthed, as the wave approached, and the bar around him disappeared, splintered and shattered by the oncoming wave of energy.

* * *

Lissa Cohl braced herself against the bio-bed nearest her as the wave struck. She felt the impact instantly, and was lifted off her feet. She was swung overtop the bio-bed, hitting her side sharply against it. Nothing was broken, but she could already feel the spot throbbing. The lights flickered, and died, and sparks burst from every console in every corner of the room, blinking spiratically. Bruce Maddox' body was no more fortunate than Lissa was - in an instant, he was flung across the room, right into a wall.

The ship continued to shudder and groan, and Lissa couldn't get to him, because of the force with which she was being pushed back. After a few seconds, the ship came to a halt, and there was silence, save for the emergency red alert klaxons blaring through the entire ship. Her heart was beating fast, and her eyes were wide. Bruce had landed, hard. God, he could have died! She had to get to him, before - !

And then the most remarkable thing happened.

Bruce Maddox opened his eyes. He got to his feet, brushed himself off, and glanced around at the chaos that surrounded him in Sickbay. His eyes went wide, and he moved towards Lissa quickly, oblivious to the grateful and relieved smile on her face. His face was stern, and serious, and he knew immediately that something was very, very wrong.

"Lissa," he spoke, grabbing her arm and dragging her towards the door, "I need you to tell me what's happening. All of it."

* * *

The main viewscreen cracked cleanly in half. The Ops console literally exploded, sending Karn flying back, into the flight control console, which ended up knocking Gallant over, as well. The lights of the bridge burst, sparks flying helter-skelter every which-way. Data grasped the arms of the command chair as if for dear life, and Armus, who had been knocked off to the side, grabbed Data as she stumbled, and held onto him for support. Tatiyana had her arms practically wrapped around the tactical console to keep her balance. All around them were alarms, and noise, and bursts of flame and sparks.

The damage on the bridge, though, was nothing compared to what was happening to the rest of the ship. The weapons pod, specifically.

The Shining Ones had noticed the launch of the torpedoes, and had become both vengeful and frightened of it. Anything that could destroy four of them - most of them - was a serious, unquestionable threat. That was where the wave had been directed, at its point of launch. When the wave struck the _Rorschach_, it struck first at just that point where the weapons pod joined the rest of the secondary hull.

It was that strut that took the full brunt, the full impact, of the energy wave. The shields absorbed little, and the remaining wave ripped into the hull of the ship, tearing through the hard metal as effortlessly as a bonesaw ripped through a block of butter. The weapons pod was knocked back, cleanly off the strut, drifting into space a few seconds before it finally, and invariably, exploded, taking with it the two remaining prototype chroniton warheads. The _Rorschach_'s last hope for success.

Hull breaches were widespread, and damage to the ship's systems were severe. Data stood, helping Karn to his feet, and then dashed over to Tatiyana as the shuddering of the _Sutherland-Rorschach_ finally ceased.

"Damage report!" he barked.

Tatiyana's expression showed only dread, and defeat.

"Ve have...lost torpedoes," she whispered.

"Have Mister Wright commence repairs," Data ordered.

"Keptin," she gulped, "The veapons pod has been destroyed."

It took a few minutes for the words to sink in. Karn, his face dark from ash and soot, buried his face in his hands in defeat. Gallant swallowed nervously, and glanced away. Armus paused, seeing in her mind's eye the three remaining Shining Ones. She could still hear their song, feel their chorus. She could still sense them.

Impossible. They hadn't come this far just to be stopped now. Not now, that they were all so close.

Revenge was a second concern, now. She had gotten to know these organic beings, and the android, and did not want them to die. She did not want for the Shining Ones to reach Earth. Something had to be done, something fast.

But...without the torpedoes...

"Transporters," Armus suggested, "We could beam the next warhead over."

Tatiyana shook her head, frowning deeply.

"No transporters," she moaned.

Armus' face sank, as she realized just how bleak the situation looked. And then, another thought occured to her. They didn't need torpedoes. They needed something to carry them. And even though Data had expelled, earlier, all of the shuttles from the _Rorschach_ to halt the _Sutherland_'s attack...the _Sutherland_'s saucer section still had a decent complement of shuttles. Loaded shuttles. Shuttles that could easily carry a chroniton warhead.

Data was barking out orders to Gallant, on evasive maneuvers and attack patterns. Tatiyana was struggling with damage reports, and Karn was trying frantically to retrieve as much information as he could from the sensors. They wouldn't like her idea...they wouldn't endorse it. They would probably take too long, in their human grief, thanks to human emotions, to get it done right.

That...and she really didn't want to say goodbye. She didn't know how.

Her eyes fluttered to blue, as she stepped towards the turbolift, and Tasha Yar spoke quietly, silent amid the chaotic chatter that was now filling up the bridge.

"I'm so, so sorry," she whispered. Tasha Yar stepped into the turbolift, and disappeared into the depths of the _USS Sutherland_.

Data glanced over the scarce readings on sensors that Merrith Karn had managed to produce.

"Three left," Karn sighed, "Just three..."

"Still enough to damage Earth," Data noted. "We must buy whatever time we can, so that - "

The ship shuddered under another impact. It shuddered again, and again. On the display in front of them, Karn watched as wave after wave after wave shot out from the largest of the Shining Ones.

"They're firing almost continuously!" Karn cried, as another console exploded, "The waves are lower intensity, but still enough to make a mess of - "

He was interrupted as sparks rained down from the roof.

"Hull integrity at sewenty percent!" Tatiyana howled, from the Tactical console, "Casualties reported on all decks!"

_"Wright to bridge!_" the Chief Engineer called, his voice frantic, "_I don't know what the hell you've done this time, android, but I can't hold her together much longer!"_

The ship shuddered, then, even more violently than it had before, almost knocking Data cleanly onto the ground. He glanced over the readings, curiously.

"That wasn't an impact," Data noted, "What caused the ship to - "

"Keptin!" Tatiyana cried, in a state of disbelief, "Somevun has initiate saucer separation!"

Data turned, his eyes wide, and he approached her station. He watched, in the same state of disbelief, as the saucer and stardrive sections became two separate contacts once more. The Shining Ones continued to spew forth waves of energy, but now their efforts were divided between two craft, each on a separate trajectory.

"Who authorized that separation?" Data inquired.

"I'm not certain, keptin," Tatiyana sighed, "But they're hailing us, and it sounds urgent."

"Onscreen - !" Data remarked, before recalling the large crack down its center. He frowned, and spoke slightly quieter, dryly. "Audio."

The voice that filled the bridge brought a smile to Tatiyana, a look of disbelief from Gallant, and an enthusiastic "Boo-yah!" from Ensign Karn, almost all at the exact same time.

"_Commander Data,_" Captain Bruce Maddox barked, "_I hope you're getting tired of that chair. I'm going to want it back when this is all over._"

Data paused, broke into a half-smile, despite his attempt at controlling his emotion chip, and chuckled lightly.

"And you shall have it, Captain Maddox," he grinned.

"_Good_," Maddox sneered, _"Now, let's see how these shiny little bastards do with _two_ targets to shoot at."_


	27. XXVII: Finale

_Finale_

The saucer section shuddered violently, beneath the impact of the Shining Ones. Armus could sense their anger, their hate, their utter contempt, and was pleased to have been part of the cause of it. She was in the main cargo bay, now, using the pattern buffers on the cargo transporter to replicate another warhead. There was just enough power for one shot. One shot was all she was really going to need.

She hit the transporter controls, and blue light shimmered on the pad in front of her. A fully-armed, fully operational chroniton warhead came into view, waiting on the pad just for her. She swallowed, nervously, and approached.

That was when she heard the footsteps behind her.

She turned, alarmed and startled, and spotted, about six feet away, Lieutenant Holtz. His eyes were wide, and frightened. He appeared unstable...uncertain...and most certainly illogical. He was biting down hard on his lower lip, and the way that he was eyeing her made Armus feel immediately uncomfortable.

"Lieutenant," she sighed, "You surprised me."

It was then that she noticed the Vulcan ritual dagger that he was holding in his right hand. She backed away slowly, as he approached, murder spelled out on his face.

"Whatever your plan to sabotage this vessel," Holtz sneered, "You will be unsuccessful."

Armus backed away slowly, raising her hands in a surrendering gesture, "Holtz," she stammered, "Holtz, I can explain. This isn't what it looks like - !"

"Neither are you, Lieutenant Yar," Holtz snapped, raising the blade and reversing his grip, preparing for a single, swift sideways slash, one that would penetrate and cut through several most essential organs. "Or...perhaps I should call you Armus. That is your name, is it not?"

Armus knew now that she would not be able to talk him down. She would not be able to reason with him. Something about what had happened on the _Sutherland_ had driven him mad...no, she had driven him mad. And now, she was going to pay the piper for what she'd done.

"Holtz," she spoke, "Holtz, you have to listen to me. There are three very angry beings outside, who are going to destroy this ship if we don't - !"

Holtz slashed out at her. Armus jumped out of the way just barely in time, and the dagger dealt only a flesh wound across her midsection, just above her navel. Holtz' eyes were wild, and he slashed again, this time with her harmlessly out of reach.

"Be silent," Holtz snapped, "It is illogical to assume that we will destroy the enemies outside this vessel, before we have destroyed the enemies within it."

Armus reached down, feeling a slight trickle of black lifeblood from her middle, and snarled. The whites of her eyes went completely black, and she stopped retreating, firmly standing her ground.

"You know what, Vulcan?" she growled, "I wish I hadn't done the things I did, and I don't want to hurt you. But, damnit, I _really_ don't have time for this!" She reached out her hand, sending out a wave of energy that blasted him to the far side of the room. He hit the wall firmly, and landed, taking another running start at her. She fired a second burst of energy, knocking him to his feet. He threw the ritual blade, and she deflected it with an energy shield. It clanged to the ground at the far side of the cargo bay.

"This enemy's not going to be around much longer, Vulcan," she hissed, picking up the warhead, and holding it tight to her side with one arm. The ship shuddered under the impact of another wave, and Armus braced herself slightly to keep from falling over. "I'm taking a shuttle, with the warhead, into the beings outside. I'm going to die. Now, if you want to have at it, old-school Vulcan single-combat style, I'll just kill you here and now. If you'd rather catch the light show, follow me to the shuttlebay and give me a hand with this. Just let me know now, so that I can either paint your juicy green innards all over the wall, or save myself the effort for the ones who really deserve it."

Holtz paused, watching her with surprise, and struggling to his feet as the ship shuddered a second time. He wasn't sure what to say, or how to react. Did he trust her? Of course not. But...the ship was as good as destroyed at this point, anyway. Assisting her seemed to be the only logical alternative, the only logical way to save the ship and preserve the lives aboard it. He took a deep breath, brushed himself off, and arched an eyebrow as he calmed himself, his sense of stoicism and logic returning.

"I will...accompany you," he rasped, choking back a little.

"Good," Armus snapped, brushing past him into the corridor, "Now, come on, Holtz. We don't have much time."

* * *

The two halves of the starship were circling the Shining Ones like vultures. Maddox' separating the saucer had proven to be a brilliant tactic, and had divided the efforts of the Shining Ones significantly. Data projected that, at this rate, they'd already allowed for the evacuation of another 10,000 to 20,000 civilians from Earth. Each second safeguarded and preserved hundreds of more lives.

The saucer section and stardrive section darted back and forth, making concentrated strafing runs, spewing phaser fire forth into the Shining Ones. The phasers didn't make any actual impact, and seemed to be doing nothing but further distracting the ethereal beings, driving them into a further state of aggression. It was providing time, though, which was the important thing.

"Keptin!" Tatiyana reported, "Ve have confirmation from Earth! Evacuation is 10% complete!"

Data half-smiled. 10% wasn't nearly as high as number as he would have hoped for, but it was far more than the planet would have had, without the _Rorschach_ crew's efforts. He was hoping that they might at least be able to raise that number to 20 before the vessel was destroyed. They were hit by another wave of energy, and the saucer section shuddered. Karn braced himself, holding onto the console before him desperately.

"Damage to stabilizers!" Gallant called out, "Controls are seizing up!"

"Compensate!" Data ordered, from the command chair.

"I can't!" Gallant cried out.

Another wave of energy spat forth from the Shining Ones, this time directed at the stardrive section. The ship was knocked back, the wave striking the main deflector firmly and sending the craft into a spiral. The stardrive section managed to fire out a few more phaser bursts before its attack ceased altogether.

"The stardrive section is hailing!" Tatiyana called out, "Keptin Maddox on speakers!"

_"Sutherland_," Maddox called out, "_We've lost our dampening field, our main deflector, all of it. Auxiliary power is failing. We're dead in the water._"

"Acknowledged," Data nodded. "Mister Gallant, bring us about as best you can. Draw the fire away from the stardrive section."

"Aye, sir," Gallant acknowledged, veering what little he could to bait the Shining Ones away from Maddox.

Another wave struck them, and sparks flew up from Ops. Karn took a few of them to the face, and cried out slightly, but opened his eyes again and watched the readings from the ship's sensors.

"Commander," Karn cautioned, "We can't take too many more hits like that. Structural integrity is at less than forty percent!"

"Understood," Data confirmed, his resolve as steely as ever, "Continue firing, Lieutenant Chekov. Evasive maneuvers, Ensign Gallant."

The end was inevitable. Now it was just a question of how much more time they could buy for Maddox, and a question of how much time they could buy for Earth. It Data had anything to say about it, Earth was going to get its 20%. At the very least. He was going to make this fight one for the history books.

* * *

The last weld to the housing near the warp core of the Type-VII shuttle was complete, and Holtz raised the shield over his face, sighed deeply, and deactivated the plasma torch. He glanced over at Armus, beside him, with a dark look on his face.

"The warhead is secure," he spoke, "Are you certain you wish to do this? An automated shuttle might very well be able to - "

"We can't take the risk," Armus snapped, "And I don't have time to reprogram the guidance system. I have to go now."

Holtz nodded, picked up his tools, and made his way out of the back hatch of the shuttle. From the bottom of the ramp, the half-Vulcan turned and looked up at Armus with a look on his face of...respect. Not admiration, but a mutual respect, an understanding. This Armus was not the same Armus who had taken over the _Sutherland_. This creature, whoever and whatever it was, had indeed undergone a remarkable transformation. It was unfortunate that it had chosen to change, only to die protecting those that it called its new friends. Holtz spoke the only words, now, that were left to say.

He lifted his hand in a Vulcan salute, as Armus looked on from the inside of the shuttlecraft.

"Live long," he called out, to the creature he'd once called his foe, "And prosper, Armus."

Armus chuckled darkly, and crossed her arms.

"Gallows humor," she remarked, "So you Vulcans do have a funny bone hidden somewhere in there after all." She made a gesture identical to his salute, and smiled back at him from the top of the shuttle's ramp. "Live long and prosper, Lieutenant Holtz."

She hit a switch, and the ramp began to raise. After a few seconds, it locked shut, sealing the shuttlecraft to the outside. The shuttle compressed, its oxygen tanks, propulsion systems, and warp drive coming online. The warhead was engaged, as well, ready to deliver its payload.

Holtz made his way to a booth in the back of the main shuttlebay, where the controls for the shuttlebay doors were housed. He entered the sequence of commands to open the bay doors, and watched with a sober, fatalistic respect as the large doors of the bay parted, and the shuttle began to drift its way towards the outside. The ship shuddered under the impact of another energy wave, and the console sparked. Holtz braced himself, watching as the last glimpse of the shuttle disappeared out of the doors, and into space.

"Good luck," he whispered.

* * *

Karn's eyes were drawn from the three red dots on his sensor palette to a new dot, one that was cerulean blue in color, just like the chroniton torpedoes had been. It was impossible. He double-checked and triple-checked his readings, but the blue dot still remained, soaring swiftly towards the three red dots. He glanced over at Data, his eyes wide and puzzled.

"Commander," he called out, "I'm picking up a chroniton signature, heading for - "

"Keptin!" Tatiyana interrupted, her voice panicked, "I am detecting an unauthorized shuttlecraft launch from main hangar! One life-sign aboard!"

"Where?" Karn snapped. Tatiyana checked, and also double-checked her readings. She glanced up, her voice soft and her expression sober.

"The shuttlecraft is carrying a chroniton warhead," she whispered, "It's headed towards the Shining Ones."

Data paused, not sure what to think. Who would have had the security access required to replicate Wright's experimental warhead, the security to open the shuttlebay doors, the security to -

- security.

Security chief.

Tasha Yar.

Data glanced around, frantically, realizing that in the confusion that had taken place when the bridge had started to crash down all around them, Armus had slipped out. He whirled around, glaring at Tatiyana with wide, horrified golden eyes. Tatiyana's gaze reflected his own, and she realized, just as he did, who was aboard the shuttle.

"My God," Karn remarked, noticing the expressions from the two other officers, "No...she couldn't have..."

"Hail the shuttle," Data barked, "Now, Lieutenant!"

"Aye, keptin..." Tatiyana whispered, "Hailing freqvencies open."

Data swallowed, nervously, and spoke, his voice cracking just slightly at the thought of losing the one person on this ship that he cared the very most about. The one who'd become most central to his programming. The one who, though he hadn't known it, had taught him to love, and to be loved. The one whose memories had been impossible to alter, to erase, to move along from. The first one he'd ever held, ever loved, the first one he'd ever truly kissed. The one whose loss, those years ago, had so deeply affected him, despite his lack of 'human' emotions.

How had it come to this again? Seven years later, he was still standing on Vagra II, watching her fade away. Seven years later, he was hearing her testament in his ears, standing by the hologram she'd left behind. Seven years later, he was telling Picard how he was grieving her, missing her, and wondering if he'd missed the whole point of the funeral. Seven years later, he was in Sickbay, watching the last sparks of her life fade away.

Not again. It couldn't be happening again. He'd just gotten her back. To have Tasha Yar back had been a physical impossibility, and yet it had occured. She was special to him, dear to him, and, though his emotions had been conflicted because of Armus' presence, and relation to Tasha's conscious mind...Data had been beyond gratefulness that she had returned to him.

He couldn't lose her again...not like this. Not now. This couldn't be happening again.

"Keptin," Tatiyana repeated, biting down hard on her lower lip.

"Thank you, Lieutenant," Data remarked, wiping a lone tear away from his left cheek. He cleared his throat, and began to speak. There was only one thing right now that he could think to say, one question he could think to ask. A single word.

"Tasha...?" he croaked, his voice cracking with sadness.

There were a few seconds of silence, from the shuttlecraft, and then a soft, light reply.

"_Yes, Data_," she answered. "_It's me._"

When his worst fears were realized, Data sank into the command chair. Karn watched him worriedly, and Tatiyana swallowed back her own tears as the android cleared his throat, ready to speak again.

"Was there...no alternative?" Data asked, simply.

Again, there was a long delay, and then a soft voice spoke, too quietly.

"_There was no other way_," Tasha answered, her own voice cracking now. "_Data_," she spoke, sadness thick in her voice, "_Data, I'm so sorry..._"

"Impact," Karn choked, trying to stay as impartial to the situation as he could, "Impact in...fifteen seconds."

"Tasha," Data called out to her, another pair of tears streaming down his face, "I will...never forget you. You are...special to me. And you shall always remain so."

There was another pause, and the expression on Karn's face spelled out just how close the shuttle was to its final destination.

_"Data_," Tasha cried, _"Data, I wish we could have it again, all of it. Time. More time. I...I don't want to..."_

The channel cut to static. The blue contact on the sensors vanished, replaced by the same maelstrom that the first pair of chroniton torpedoes had created. Karn swallowed, and glanced over to Data, delivering the news that no one on the bridge wanted to hear, but had to.

"Impact," Karn whispered, "The shuttle is gone."

* * *

When Tasha Yar opened her eyes, there was nothing but a blinding whiteness. She recognized this place as the realm of the Shining Ones, the place that Armus had shown her when it had come here with Data. She saw, before her, three red lights, protected by a barrier. She glanced down next to her, and spotted the chroniton warhead. The lights were crying out sporatically, frantically, furiously. It was a garble, gibberish, and desperate.

She wasn't certain just what to do, right now.

She felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned, and was initially shocked to see Armus standing next to her. Not Armus, as it had appeared with her form, but as it had been on Vagra II. It was a creature standing a foot taller than her, its body made up of a black, viscous sludge. It growled, its voice echoing through the realm. Tasha, at first, was inclined to step away. Armus, however, wasn't approaching her aggressively. It was...watching her. She watched Armus in return. The cries of the Shining Ones still persisted, screaming out murder at the two attackers.

"Fools!" the deepest of the voices cried, "Fools, all of you! Do you realize what you have done? What you have destroyed? We are evolution! We are the future! We are immortal!"

Armus nodded, slowly, to Tasha, and reached down, picking up the chroniton detonator.

"Farewell," it spoke, its voice a thick, grimy echo, "And safe travels, Natasha Yar."

Tasha swallowed, nervously, and smiled back at the creature that had become as close to her as a brother...a sister...regardless of gender, whatever Armus was, it was a creature that Tasha had come to regard as a friend and partner. She bowed her head slightly, nodding in approval.

"Goodbye," she spoke.

Armus, the chroniton device in hand, stepped towards the barrier. It was surrounded by a wave of white energy, and it cried out as it crashed into the barrier. The shield buckled, and shimmered. Armus released wave, after wave, after wave of energy, smashing ruthlessly into the barrier that protected the Shining Ones. They were too far gone to protect themselves now, or to maintain the barrier. It faded out, for a split second, and Armus moved through it, sealing itself inside with the three red lights. It hit the switch on the chroniton warhead, triggering the detonation sequence.

"Your evolution ends here, Garmaias," Armus sneered, "It all ends here."

The maelstrom swept through the realm inside the barrier, and Tasha shielded herself from its wake, blasted back by the force of the barrier's collapse. All she could see what a violent storm of white and blue, and all she could hear were the screams of the three Shining Ones, fading into oblivion.

And then...one last time...everything went white.


	28. XXVIII: In Memoriam

_In Memoriam_

Silence.

There were no more waves. There were no more explosions. The ship was motionless. Data swallowed sharply, his heart sinking farther, and faster, than ever before.

Gone. Natasha Yar was gone.

Just...like that.

Tatiyana's expression was dark, as was Gallant's. Data's expression was that of a man in shellshock, a man having watched something that brought him pain...trauma...suffering. Not an android's feelings, but a man's feelings. Emotions. Emotions, routed through his emotion chip, that were breaking this accomplished, capable Starfleet Ops officer in half right now.

"Damage report," he croaked.

Tatiyana glanced downward at her console, her face grim.

"It might be better, keptin, to wait for a tow ship to arrive," she groaned, "And have McKinley station measure the damage instead."

The damage, truly, was too extensive to measure. By rights, neither section - stardrive nor saucer - should have survived. They had all been lucky. Insanely, unreasonably lucky.

Almost all of them. All of them, except for...for...

Data sank into the command chair, watching the viewscreen blankly. There was a trilling at Tatiyana's console, breaking the reverie, and the young Russian spoke, her voice slightly excited, the way it usually was.

"Keptin," she spoke, "There is another contact approaching. It is...large, keptin. Not of a configuration I recognize - "

"Hail them," Data spoke, softly and stoically.

"Aye, keptin," she responded, "Hailing freqvencies - "

"This is Commander Data of the _USS Sutherland-Rorschach_," Data rasped, interrupting Tatiyana sharply, "Identify yourselves."

The voice that responded was unmistakeable. It raised Data's spirits slightly...but only marginally slightly.

"Commander Data," mused a baritone in a familiar British accent, "This is Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the starship _Enterprise_. I suppose you'll have some stories ready for me, after all."

Data smiled, slightly, relieved by the presence of his mentor and captain.

"Many, captain," Data spoke, hoarsely, "Although I would prefer to...divulge them...at a slightly more convenient time."

"Of course," Picard answered, "My tactical officer has locked onto your co-ordinates, and those of your stardrive section. We shall recover the stardrive section by tractor beam, and then proceed to seize your vessel on a second pass. Make whatever preparations you need."

Data nodded, and smiled halfly.

"Thank you, Captain," he acknowledged, "_Sutherland_ out."

There was silence on the bridge for a few seconds before Karn turned away from his station, an expression of bewilderment on his face.

"Commander," he spoke, "I'm not picking up any debris from the shuttle."

Data didn't respond. Gallant leaned over, towards Karn, and glared at him.

"You think after an explosion like that there'd be any debris left?" Gallant snapped.

"There ought to be something," Karn insisted, "Even trace amounts. Metals. Something."

Data paused, frowning, but nodded to the younger officer.

"Continue scanning," he ordered.

"Aye, sir," Karn acknowledged, "Scanning the area."

Data waited for the inevitable news. Debris had been picked up. The shuttle was confirmed destroyed. Lieutenant Yar had been killed in action. Again. And, once again, Data was left behind, the survivor. He had been forced to watch her die, just like on Vagra II, all over again. They had been so close, so impossibly close...and then...

Karn glanced up from his console, a look of confusion on his face.

"Captain," he stammered, "Er, Commander, I'm detecting an anomaly. Multiphasic. Its readings are consistent with the dimensional shifts that the Shining Ones produced earlier."

Data paused, and stood. There was horror written on his face, and on Tatiyana's. The same thought was running through both their minds right now - they had failed. One of the Shining Ones had survived, and would proceed to Earth.

Tasha's death...her sacrifice...it had all been in vain.

"Target phasers," Data barked, "Signal the _Enterprise_ to plot an intercept course, and engage at maximum - "

"Commander!" Karn stammered again, his voice heavy with disbelief, "The anomaly is stabilizing...sir, there's something coming through! Something solid!"

Data moved towards him, watching the sensor readouts with anxiety and worry. More than anything else, Data knew it was probably one of the Shining Ones, or something left behind by one of them. Probably something destructive, something dangerous. Something had come through...something was drifting towards them...but the interference that the anomaly was wreaking on their scanners made it impossible to determine exactly what.

"Analysis?" Data asked, worriedly.

"Impossible to tell," Karn sighed, slapping the console, "It could be anything. I don't have a - "

"Keptin!" Tatiyana interrupted, glancing up confusedly from her console, "There's an incoming transmission from an unidentified wessel."

Data paused, curiously, and nodded to her.

"Open hailing frequencies," he ordered. Tatiyana nodded, and opened a channel.

"This is Commander Data of the Federation starship _Rorschach,_" Data called out, "Unidentified vessel, identify yourself and state your destination."

There was a silence, for a time, and then the sound of someone sighing, softly, and clearing their throat.

"Data," a soft, familiar, feminine voice choked, "Just open the shuttlebay doors...and let me in."

Data's face broke out into a stare of disbelief, and he stood frozen in place for a moment. He composed himself, glanced around, unsure of what to do next, and whirled around to face his Ops officer.

"Ensign Karn," he snapped hurriedly, "You have the bridge. Lieutenant Chekov, come with me."

Tatiyana followed Data into the lift. The android was clearly in a rush - he'd closed the doors almost before she was completely inside. They stood in the humming, scant lift, and Data called out their destination anxiously.

"Shuttlebay One," Data ordered. The lift complied, directing them swiftly towards their destination.

* * *

Data hardly waited for Holtz to finish closing the shuttlebay doors before he'd dashed out into the bay itself, running at full speed to where the shuttlecraft had set down, its engines still aglow. He moved, swiftly, to the ramp at the back of the craft. Tatiyana, who had come with him here, followed along behind, struggling to keep up with her superior officer. Both of them stood, anxiously, just past where the ramp would fall momentarily, each of them waiting to see if what they'd heard was true. It was impossible...it was really, truly, and completely impossible.

The ramp lowered, and the shuttle decompressed. Smoke poured out of the inside of the vessel. Tatiyana coughed, and wiped the smoke out of her eyes. Data stood at the ramp's bottom, watching the smoke intently. He was picking up traces of sulphur - the shuttle must have sustained mild damage. There was the chance that there may have been turbulence, or that fire might have broken out aboard.

Immediately, he ran up the ramp, glancing around him as best he could. He spotted her in the cockpit, seated, breathing only softly. He could hardly see her, but for her silhouette against the smoky backdrop. He approached her, tearing the safety restraints off the seat with his bare hands. He reached down, taking her into his arms, and bolted down the ramp with her, placing her on the ground, but keeping her back and head raised. He knelt next to Tasha Yar, whose face was marred with ash, just as it had been after the fire on the lower decks of the _Sutherland_. His eyes were wide, confused, joyful, relieved, worried, all at the same time. The emotions were vast and varied, and he felt himself quite overwhelmed by them.

Tasha coughed softly, and glanced up at him, her blue eyes unwavering. She smiled, just slightly, and chuckled.

"Thanks," she grinned, "Hit a rough patch. The shuttle started to come apart. I saw a bright light - "

She paused, her smile falling into a frown, and she turned away slightly.

"Data..." she whispered, "It's Armus..."

Data paused, glancing at her with worry on his face.

"Armus is gone," she spoke, softly, "Armus is gone."

Data paused, still kneeling by her side, as she turned to glance up at him.

"Data..." she whispered, her voice cracking.

Data said nothing more. He quickly, and firmly, pulled her into an embrace, holding onto her as if he'd never let her go again. She held him back, grateful just to be alive right now. Tatiyana watched the whole scene tearfully, from next to Data, and Holtz observed the scene from the rear of the shuttlebay with fascination. There was a soft smile on his face, logic be damned.

"A most...illogical turn of events," Holtz noted, "Though a most welcome one."

The _Enterprise _swooped overhead, casting a tractor beam firmly over the _Sutherland_.

It was time to go home.


	29. Epilogue

**I refuse to divulge at which hour I write this note. Mostly because it's no longer "tonight" but rather "tomorrow morning", and I don't care to think on the unhealthy length of time I've vested into finishing this project.**

Ladies and gentlemen...that's all she wrote.

**I plan on writing more of the **_**Rorschach**_**'s adventures, some time soon, particularly an Alien-ST crossover story featuring the **_**Rorschach**_** new First Officer (Lieutenant Commander You-Know-Who!) in a leading role, along with the whole gang - Wright, Tatiyana, Karn, Cohl, and, of course, Maddox. Data will be back, as well. But...for the time being...**

**That's all, folks.**

**Kaiba-Kun - To answer your last questions, yes, the operation scene was major Deja Vu. And as for Fanfic 100, it's a challenge where every chapter or segment you write from any given mythos has to follow a set pattern - Beginnings, Middles, Ends, etc, all fit the requirements all the way up to the chapter I wrote called Lovers, which is where I decided to break with tradition and the challenge itself. The show had to go on, and the story no longer fit the premise of FF100. I may try it again someday...but not this day.**

**Furthermore, Kaiba-Kun, at this, the conclusion of this venture, I cannot help but admire the numerous times you've come to me with suggestions, reviews, and assistance. You are the sort of reader who every author deserves at least one of, and your timely reviews and their content has been invaluable to me. **

**Lastly...I wish to acknowledge assistance from a source outside of FF.N, and acknowledge the individual for whom this story was primarily composed, as many of my stories, songs, and poems are. This particular individual has been a constant source of encouragement, laughter, assistance, and motivation. She helped me to take characters who were new, and untested, and craft them into personas who I have come to greatly enjoy playing with, in literature. Wright, Karn, and especially Tatiyana benefited from this individual's assistance. Without her, and without the motivation that she granted me, this story would not have been completed, ever. xD I'm that lazy, folks. And so, you who know exactly who you are, thank you for putting up with me, for tolerating my rants and raves, for always being there when I needed a helping hand, and for being the best friend in the cosmos that any man, android, Vulcan, Orion, Deltan, omnipotent being, Tellarite, or Klingon could ever hope for. Period.**

**Thank you all for reading my story. I hope you've enjoyed the ride.**

*** * ***

_Epilogue_

The soft accordion music in the Parisian cafe grated against Picard's ears, as the older officer sat in the cafe waiting for his new Operations officer to arrive. He'd asked Data to meet him here once the _Rorschach_ had docked, and repairs had commenced. It had been three days already, and Data had contacted him earlier this evening to let him know that he would be available for a meeting. He'd also advised Picard, hastily, that he would accept the Operations position that was open on the _Enteprise-E,_ much to Picard's delight.

He couldn't begin to marvel at what the android must have accomplished aboard the _Rorschach_. From the preliminary reports and briefings on the incident that were trickling through Starfleet Command, the _Rorschach_ had been attacked by the _Sutherland_, had traversed the treacherous Pavel Nebula, punched its way through the Crystal Gorge, and halted the advance of a nearly omnipotent race of ethereal, destructive beings before they'd had the opportunity to reach, and destroy, Earth. If not for their efforts, 80% of the planet's population would have died. Starfleet owed Captain Maddox and Mister Data a great debt right now.

_Maddox be damned, _Picard thought to himself. He was growing impatient, and had been eagerly looking forward to meeting with Data again, listening to a few of the stories that Data promised to bring back. Picard had brought along a vintage bottle of _Chateau Picard_ from his family's vineyards, just for the occasion. Data had been behaving erratically, mysteriously, as if there were something he was trying to keep from the captain this evening. He'd told Picard that he was bringing along a guest, and had asked the older captain to come alone. For what reason, Picard wasn't certain. He was just growing very flustered, very quickly. He motioned to the waitress nearby, who approached him quickly and nervously.

"Yes, Commander?" she stammered.

"Captain," Picard interrupted, "Four pips."

"Oh, right," the young woman commented, raising a hand to her lips, "Sorry."

"I'm expecting someone," Picard snapped, "Can you tell me if a Federation shuttle, from McKinley station, has arrived in this area recently?"

The young woman played nervously with her dark brown hair, and bit down on her lower lip.

"I'm sorry," she sighed, "The only person who'd really know is the city dockmaster."

"Really?" Picard replied, mock surprise thick in his voice, "Then perhaps you should contact the dockmaster and find out."

The brunette opened her mouth, about to argue the matter, when Picard leaned forward and glared, almost menacingly, at her.

"Now," he barked.

The young woman nodded and scurried off, just as Picard caught a glimpse of a Soong-type android stepping through the door nearby, in a black and gold duty jumpsuit. Picard mused to himself that the gold much better suited the android than red did, although Picard fully expected that after Data's recent endeavors, command would inevitably be in his future one day. Picard turned, to the waitress.

"Mademoiselle!" Picard called, "Mademoiselle, it's fine! As you were!"

The waitress darted back and forth for a moment, almost like a chicken _sans tete_, but eventually returned to serving drinks to patrons at the restaurant's bar. Data approached the table, a broad smile on his face, which was something most...uncustomary.

"I presume, Mister Data," Picard observed, "That you've come for a drink."

"I most certainly have," Data grinned. He dragged a chair from a nearby table over, next to his, immediately raising suspicion in the older Captain.

"Shall Captain Maddox be joining us?" Picard groaned, slightly.

"Unfortunately, he is unable," Data remarked, "Repairs to the _Rorschach_ are currently underway, and he and Lieutenant Wright, the Chief Engineer, are attempting to salvage what they can of the vessel. I have been informed that they are converting the _Sutherland_'s saucer section to the new designated saucer for the _Rorschach_ itself. They had made plans to dismantle the saucer and replace it, but...Mister Wright seems to have grown attached to it."

"Ah," Picard noted. He popped the cork of the wine bottle promptly, and poured two fresh glasses. One for himself, one for the android. Data reached around behind him, to the other table again, and snatched up one of the wine glasses, placing it at the empty chair next to him.

"Mister Data," Picard mused, "Are you going to tell me who you've wrangled into joining us this evening, or shall I be forced to guess?"

"She will arrive shortly," Data explained, "Her work on the _Rorschach_ at the moment is of utmost importance. She will join us as soon as it is possible for her to do so."

Picard arched an eyebrow, curiously, and chuckled across the table at the android.

"She?" the older man asked, with a smile, "Mister Data, I do believe that your journey was even more lucrative than you had previously led me to believe."

Data paused, cocked his head in that manner that only Data could quite manage, and smiled. The sight of Data's face in a full, broad smile was something that Picard knew he was going to have to get used to. It was...unusual. Even after the emotion chip was installed, Data had never been one for frequent or unneeded smiles or outbursts. With the exception of occasional breaking into the godawful "Life Form" song.

"So," Picard chuckled, softly, "Who's the lucky young woman?"

"Clarify," Data asked.

"Your date," Picard barked, crossing his arms and smiling with a great deal of amusement, "Who is she, exactly, Mister Data?"

"She is the new Executive Officer for the _USS Rorschach_," Data explained, "My replacement. The beings that we encountered have already disrupted the development of several worlds, and the _Rorschach_'s next journey will take it to each of the worlds affected in an effort to minimize the damage. She felt a certain...obligation, to complete this mission herself. Although I argued that you would have gladly given her a post on the _Enterprise _as Tactical Officer."

At this point, Picard's smile turned into a frown. A deep frown.

"Mister Data," he explained, "I've already gone through a deal of trouble selecting a replacement for Mister Worf. The young man who has taken the post is extremely enthusiastic about his work, and it would be unfair of me to revoke his new position without a damned good reason."

"A moot point," Data noted, "As she will be unable to wrest that position from him at this time."

Again, Picard noted, Data was using that very mysterious pronoun, "she". Picard smirked, picked up his glass, and raised it.

"Might I propose a toast, Mister Data?" he requested.

"Of course, sir," Data answered, "You are the senior officer."

Picard smiled, and raised the glass just a little higher, clinking it against the glass that Data had raised.

"To the journey," Picard observed.

"To the journey," Data repeated. Both drank, slowly, but Data paused, glancing at Picard with a lost expression. "Captain, if memory serves, and it does in my particular case, you made a similar toast when I parted."

"Ah, in a manner," Picard grinned, "But we toasted the start of journeys specifically. Since that time, you were tried and tested, Mister Data, in a manner that few can truly attest to. And you seem to have emerged relatively unscathed. And so I suggest we toast that journey, and those that shall come after it."

"Insufficient description, sir," Data chuckled, broadly smiling again.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I was not merely 'unscathed'," Data argued, "Your description is thus insufficient."

"Insufficient?" Picard repeated.

"Yes, sir," Data answered.

Picard crossed his arms, frowned, and mockingly smiled.

"Very well, then, Mister Data. Let us play your little game," he mused, "How is my description insufficient?"

Data glanced, out of the corner of his eye, at a door opening near the front of the restaurant. He spotted a woman, with short blond hair, walking into the room wearing a long, elegant black dress. His smile broadened exponentially, a look that Picard still wasn't fully accustomed to. It placed him slightly at a state of unease.

"It is insufficient," Data explained, "Because not only have I emerged unscathed...I believe that because I took this journey, I am better off as a direct result."

"Spoken either as a Frenchman in love," Picard chuckled, "Or a fool, Mister Data."

"Perhaps both," Data grinned. "Excuse me, Captain."

Picard rolled his eyes as the seemingly giddy android stood up from the table, moving towards the door of the restaurant. Picard found himself wishing he'd brought Beverly, or someone else along. He didn't exactly feel like spending the evening as a third wheel. He'd been looking forward to seeing his old friend, swapping stories, making up for a little bit of lost time.

The woman Data had brought along was probably some stern, Starfleet martinet like Elizabeth Shelby, or some equally ambitious, inconsiderate, career-driven lunatic, with nothing on her mind but the number of pips at her neck. He was probably going to spend the whole evening listening to a junior officer trying to suck up to the Captain of the _Enterprise_, or, worse still, he'd spend the evening ignored while she and the android whispered sweet nothing, caught in the throes of young love.

She was probably someone he'd never met before, someone he wouldn't recognize. Nevertheless, for Data's sake, the captain would have to be polite, and would have to make as good as first impression as he possibly could.

"Merde," he grumbled, hearing two distinct pairs of footsteps behind him, approaching from the door. He heard Data making casual conversation with her, as they moved towards the table, and also caught the unmistakable sound of the android officer giving the mystery woman, whoever she was, a soft kiss on the cheek.

"This way," Data spoke, from behind the captain, walking the guest over to her seat.

Picard rolled his eyes a second time.

"Well, this is most certainly the last time I ever drink with an android."

Picard didn't bother looking up when Data and his guest approached, stuck in a slight disappointed reverie. Data politely, and cheerily, pulled out the chair for the woman, who took a seat. Data took his spot, across from Picard.

"Captain," Data spoke, "Are you unwell?"

Picard sat upright with a start, brushed himself off, and smiled.

"Oh, yes, Mister Data," he remarked, "Now, why don't you introduce me to..."

He paused, when he glanced over at the young woman that Data had invited along. Her hair was short, but not cut terribly short. Her eyes were deep blue. She was smiling at him, as broadly as Data had been smiling, and she seemed most...pleased to see the captain. He knew her immediately, and yet doubted his senses. What he was seeing was impossibility, complete impossibility. He turned back towards Data, stunned. He was about to ask a question, but the words simply wouldn't form.

"Hello, Jean-Luc," Natasha Yar smiled, her voice soft and light as ever.

Picard took a deep breath, glanced over her one more time, making certain that he was not mistaken. He smiled back.

"_Mon dieu_," he whispered.

After a moment, the captain's smile broadened, and the prospect of the evening became a great deal brighter. Apparently, Data had more stories to tell than Jean-Luc, even based on the reports, had come to expect.

The old captain reached over the table and filled the third glass with wine.


End file.
